Ella is a special person, as anyone who knows her would attest. She is thoughtful, touchingly caring and sweet-hearted.

Tonight, she helped me turn about 12 boneless chicken breasts into delectable chicken nuggets. And she was very helpful, indeed.

First, I cut each chicken breast into about 4-5 strips and dumped them into a bowl full of flour. That’s where she took over. She made sure the chicken pieces were coated with flour, then dipped them in the egg, then coated each strip in the breadcrumb mixture and left them on a plate. I took it from there, dropping each strip into a hot pan coated in olive oil and margarine. Do that math: that’s 60 pieces of chicken that she prepared. And she’s not seven yet. From age 3 or 4, Ella has loved to be in the kitchen helping mommy or daddy prepare a meal or a dessert. So, she’s had some practice.

I always said my mom taught me how to be a dad, so there’s no reason why a dad can’t teach his daughter a few tricks in the kitchen. And she has the requisite love of food. Unlike skinny-mini Ben who you have to constantly ride to get him to eat a meal, Ella loves her food and has a broader range of tastes than most other kids her age. She does exactly what I do when we taste the first morsel of cooked nuggets as they come out of the pan. Her eyes closed, her head slightly tilted back, she issues forth a delighted “mmmm”. Like father, like daughter.

We have the greatest conversations when we’re cooking together.

“Dad, I don’t understand uncles and aunts. I mean, I know that Frank is your brother, but why is he our uncle?”

“That’s the name for the brothers and sisters of your parents,” I replied. “Aunts and uncles.”

“Does grandpa Hal have any sisters or brothers?”

“Yes, he has a sister. Aunt Joan is his sister.”

“Oh,” she chirped. “Is she our aunt too?”

“Well, technically, she’s your great-aunt,” I clarified.

“Wow. Cool. I didn’t know we had any of those kind.”

“What kind?” I asked.

“The ‘great’ ones,” she replied, as if she was pleased to have some relatives who were not merely good.

She is very interested in genealogy, how people are connected and who is named after who and why. Most kids couldn’t care less, but she asks questions and remembers your answers. And she seems to emotionally understand, in her almost 7 year old way, the connections between generations. Another of our exchanges went like this:

“This is the same recipe that you used to make with Bubbe Pat, right Daddy?”

“Yes, Ella. She taught me this recipe.”

“So your mom taught you and you are teaching me.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You are absolutely right.”

It’s as if she is connecting emotionally to a grandmother, otherwise lost to her, through the recipe.

Well, the recipe is nothing fancy, but it’s a crowd-pleaser. Especially if the crowd is kids. But I know lots of adults that love them too.

1. Season bread crumbs with some salt, pepper, paprika and garlic powder. Wet your finger and dip it in to taste. If it tastes good, you’ve added the right proportions.
2. Cut each boneless chicken breasts into 4-6 pieces. Dredge in flour.
3. Mix as many eggs as you need and add a tiny bit of water to thin the egg mixture. Dip each chicken piece in egg. Then coat in seasoned bread crumbs.
4. Fry in oil (with optional margarine) until golden brown.

Yum-olla!