It is perhaps not widely known that I love good Mexican food, and that—with the assistance from afar of Rick Bayless—have developed a number of specialties de casa.
Among these specialties is tostadas, which I make starting with corn tortillas. A bit of oil and 10—15 minutes in the oven makes them crispy. We build from there.
The tortillas fit nicely in a 3 by 3 array on my favorite cookie sheet. There are four of us in the family. You can see where this is going, I am sure.
Griffin served himself a second tostada the other night.
Tabitha (six years old): Griffy’s having another one?!?
Me: Yes. There’s a second one for you, too.
T: How many did you make?
T: That’s not a fair number!
Me: What would be a fair number?
T: One where everybody can have the same amount.
Me: Right. But how do you know 9 isn’t a fair number? And what would be one?
T: I don’t know.
Griffin (eight years old): Eight would be. Or 40.
Me: Oh! Forty! Then we could each have 10. Would you like to eat 10 tostadas, Tabitha? But then I would need to buy a second pack of tortillas.
T: [Silent, but her eyes get big and she nods vigorously.]
G: Or 20. Or 12.
The final count is 2 tostadas each for Mommy and Tabitha, and tostadas each for Daddy and Griffin. Along the way, I promise Tabitha a taco if she finishes her second tostada and is still hungry. This strikes her as fair.