"What’s for dinner tonight?"
"Just leftover chicken."
Eye-rolling and full-body complaining ensues.
Then the smell hits them…
"What is THAT??"
"Something CUBAN! Yaaaay!"
I don’t tell them that I intended to make this all along, which is why I made way too much chicken the other night.
I don’t tell them that actually I was having a craving.
In fact, I go ahead and let them think I am an amazing cook and just whipped this up effortlessly and without much forethought.
Thanks, Goya! =D