Papa Risotto serves the kids their little plates first, along with their toddler cutlery. Then he he pours a glass of wine for Gelato. The rest of the food is in the center of the table, ready for the adults to help themselves.
Papa Risotto takes a little extra time with the food for the babies. It’s got to be cut into small pieces so they can easily feed themselves without choking. He also makes sure it’s not too hot. Then he brings everything out.
He goes into the kitchen to pull the cassoulet out of the oven. It smells like he did it right, but Gelato will be the judge of that. He plates up and brings everything to the table.
"The author of the recipe book I used was a woman that had a show on TV. My mother used to watch her. Her voice is hilarious," he chuckles. "She sounds like she's singing opera, but that's just the way she talks."
"I followed the book, but I don't know anything about this woman, other than her voice made me laugh when I was a child and my mother would watch her."
"That is the best idea." He gives Gelato a cheek kiss and smiles as he puts a hand on their son's head.
"If you enjoy dinner tonight, it means I did it right."
"It's The Art of French Cooking, so of course I wanted to try it."
He puts the book back on the counter and then puts his arm around Gelato to lead him out of the kitchen.
"That has to bake for a while. I need to not be looking at this kitchen for a bit."
"I barely remember lighting that. I'm exhausted."
But at least the dish was now in the oven. He went to the nearest chair and flopped down.
"My first mistake was deciding to do this all in one day..."