Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop. Clop. Clop. Clop. Clop.
The chef’s knife hits the cutting board at a fast clip with a staccato beat. My oldest son deftly dices mango into little golden cubes. He’s 10-and-a-half years old, but on the smaller side for his age, and I’m not used to seeing his hands move so quickly.
“Where did you learn to chop like that?” I can’t help but sound surprised. Not only am I in awe over his skills, but I’m also a bit shocked that I had no clue he could make magic with a knife.
“Cooking shows, Mom. It’s easy.” He shrugs his shoulders, all the while continuing his rhythmic dicing.
Check out this post and who’s making dinner in our house these days at Mamanomnom.com