We had been staring at a rather impressive loaf of stale crusty bread for a few days when some eggplant found its way here from the farmer's market. Temperatures had fallen into the 60's this evening, so using the oven seemed within reason. And then Secondo came into the kitchen and wanted to cook with me. This doesn't happen every day, so when he asks, I try to make it work.
Time to make some bread-crumbs. He wanted to wield the knife in cutting up the stale bread, but I couldn't go along with that request. Instead, I got Secondo seated on the island and instructed him in how to "drive" the Cuisinart's pulse switch. I've already posted on making fresh breadcrumbs here so I won't go into the procedure again. I just wanted to say that Secondo loved making them. And they were great - redolent of garlic, herbs, and freshly grated Parmesan. He has been eating breadcrumbs raw - right out of a bowel - ever since. And taking samples to other family members all over the house. He's evangelizing breadcrumbs. Just like dad.