I'm learning to cook.

I hate cooking, but I'm part of a family now, a two-person family in which the only person other than myself is one and a half years old. Until my daughter is old enough to relieve me of the cooking duties, it's all me.

Being a single mother has been, in addition to much else, a process of learning how to happily do lots of things I don't want to do, from changing diapers to repeating the word, "no!" several dozen times a day. Cooking, somehow, bothers me more than nearly anything else. If I had my way, I'd snack my way through the day, with a bowl of cereal here, a piece of cheese there. My daughter, however, has needs that can't be met by a handful of grapes and a slice of bread every couple hours.

So I'm learning. As I make my way through the cookbooks kindly donated by friends supporting me in my quest to become a better meal-provider for my family, I've discovered two important truths:

1. Little preparation = happy family. Extended preparation = yogurt for dinner because we get too hungry waiting for everything to be finished.

2. Whatever it is, it better be forkable by a 16 month old. Spoon foods aren't practical at our house for at least another year.

My daughter is on the skinny side - she's a mover, my girl, which means I've been on the skinny side, too, since spending the past six months running after her. This means that the more butter-slathered, cheese-dipped and oil-drenched a meal is, the more we like it. I'm also partial to meals that will impress the daycare ladies when I send my girl to school with the leftovers for lunch.

Here then, is a recipe that not only meets the needs of our quirky family, but also happens to be delicious. It cooks up in less than an hour, includes high-calorie coconut milk and tastes like it took much more effort than it actually does.

Moqueque

1/4 C olive oil
1 medium, sliced onion
1 medium, sliced green pepper
2 cloves crushed garlic
As much minced hot pepper as you like. (I use about a quarter of a small habanero, but I'm a wimp.)
1 large, chopped tomato
2 T tomato paste
2/3 C coconut milk
a lot of cilantro
the juice from one lemon
optional: a bunch of shrimp

First of all, let me say that this dish is served with rice. So while you're chopping, slicing and dicing, make yourself up a couple of cups of rice. The amount of coconut milk called for in the recipe doesn't use an entire can, so I cook my rice with water and whatever coconut milk is left.

Now that that's out of the way, heat up your olive oil. Drop in the onions and cook 'em up until they're just soft. Add the peppers and cook some more, until they look right, which will mean until everything looks shiny and soft but not limp. Add the garlic, hot pepper, tomato and paste. Stir it all up a few times. If your pan is too hot, you'll notice things getting sticky fast - if your pan is just right, they'll get sticky just a little bit slower. So add the coconut milk, cilantro and lemon juice. Cook for about 5 minutes.

Here, my hand-written recipe (which I copied from PBS years ago) says to "add another 1/4 cup of oil. Palm oil is officially correct, but anything will do." Having never in my life bought palm oil, I generally drizzle a bit more olive oil in if it appears to need it. A quarter cup sounds a little drastic to me, after a few practices at this recipe, but taste yours and see how it goes.

If you're going vegetarian, you're just about done. Ignore this next bit. If you're going to add the shrimp, add it now. Cook the shrimp until it just turns pink.

Vegetarians and shrimp lovers alike should now add a bit more cilantro, because it's delicious.

And now you're done. Serve with your slightly coconutty rice. Your house will smell like heaven and your stomach will thank you.