How my kids made it this far (nine years!) without trying fried mozzarella, I do not know.
We were at a restaurant last week, and their usual favorites (pasta with butter, cheeseburgers and chicken fingers) were not listed on the menu. Grumbling and pouting ensued, despite the fact that we were at the beach and watching the NCAA basketball tournament on the bar television. The perfect day.
When I pointed out the mozzarella sticks, they turned up their noses. All three of them!
I’m sorry… what?! Nobody turns up their noses at fried mozzarella!
So I said, “Guys, it’s fried cheese!”
Reluctantly, and still pouting, they agreed to try it.
One by one, they took a tiny bite. Eyes grew bigger. Quick glance at me to see if I was watching. I pretended I was not.
And then when the plate was empty, they asked the waiter for another order of that.