No More Crying in the Kitchen

Hello September! I hope yall had a fabulous Labor Day weekend. Ours was very relaxed and chilled out. Gloomy, rainy weather (thanks Isaac!) meant lots of napping (thanks baby!), chores around the house and LOTS of college football.

I realized when I was making dinner last night I don't often blog about my adventures in the kitchen. I'm, by no means, a gourmet cook, but I like to think I have some legit talents in the food preparation world. I enjoy escaping into my own little world when I've got the radio on, with a glass of wine (in my pre-preggo days - now it's a glass of sparkling water with lime) and I'm surrounded by lots of fresh food.

As I was planning this blog post in my head - I originally was going to share a recipe with you - it came time for me to dice a large white onion. Cue the scary movie music. Maybe it's just me, but my eyes water just at the sight of onions, let alone dicing an entire one. The stinging, the tears, the pain, the interruption and annoyance. I can't bear it. But we love onions. Un problemo, no?

But several years ago, I found the perfect solution. Wait, let's give credit where credit is due: Mr. B. actually told me about this tip. Do you want to know the secret to stopping onion-eye-crying forever?!

Have a peek into one of my kitchen drawers:

It's off center because I just couldn't cut out Miss Dixie and her impeccable hound senses pointing you in the right direction....

 



It looks normal on first glance: cutting boards, oven mitts, potholders and ski goggles. Wait, ski goggles? Ding ding ding!

Ski goggles. A Mrs. B. kitchen essential. (And friends, cross my heart, this is not staged. If you came over to The Anniversary Home right now you'd find the drawer exactly like this.)

Next time you need to peel, slice and dice an onion, throw on a pair of old ski goggles and you're eyes will be mist-free. Promise. Now, I never said this was a glamorous tip. In fact, be prepared for a dose of humility because you will look ridiculous. Mr. B. still laughs at me when he walks in kitchen and I'm in onion goggle mode. But I don't care. I'd much rather look like a crazy woman with goggles on than a crazy woman crying her eyes out over an onion. (Not to mention the crazy dance from trying to wipe your eyes without touching them!)

Now, go forth, slice and dice those onions, and report back to me ladies!