Yesterday was Columbus Day. Yay Pillagers! It’s gratifying that over the past few years the country has become more aware and vocal on the fact that Columbus didn’t discover shit since you can’t discover something already inhabited. This year Vermont and cities of Phoenix and Denver changed the day to “Indigenous Peoples Day”, joining a number of cities across the country in making this recognition of accurate history. Sheeeit, the states of Colorado and Arizona should be leading the charge along with New Mexico to officially change the name. Then again, Arizona doesn’t want to acknowledge MLK day so what are you gonna do.

Stella told us it was Columbus Day. Now that she’s in a school with a focus on Spanish and Italian culture we waited with bated breath to hear what she had to say about it:

“Christopher Columbus came to America on three ships: La Nina, La Pinta, y La Santa Maria. But he did NOT discover America. There were already people living here.” Whew! After a really hard time with Miami public schools we are so happy here, and I didn’t want to have to roll up gangsta style to defend my people (you know all black people have some Indian in them, right?). Crisis averted.

In school she did however make biscotti dough, so one of two nods to Mr. Columbus’ land of origin yesterday was to make the biscotti. I frequently have great plans of baking with the kid, but then I have to take a nap just thinking about the mess I’d have to clean, so I’m grateful that in her weekly cooking class she has brought home biscuit dough for strawberry shortcake, pizza dough and now this. The recipe is here. When you eat stuff like this you really wonder why you don’t make it at home. I guess because then you have to make it at home.

For dinner we had Chicken Milanese. This is basically fancy fried chicken – flattened breaded chicken breast. The most difficult thing about this recipe is that you have a lot of dishes to clean, but it was damn good. I used panko and seasoned them with salt, pepper, and dried thyme and parsley. The kid ate all of it, which is always the test.

All in all a good night, until my husband came home a broke a new bottle of Italian Sangiovese. I think the indigenous ancestors were giving a final little Fuck You to the Italians for the night.