Cooking

My mother is a good cook. His mother is a good cook. We both expected to eat well when we began our home together. I don't know why? I guess you believe you will live like how you grew up. When we started out we both worked and went to school so we shared household chores including cooking. We basically ate meat and potatoes, or a variation of that (although there were probably a lot of grilled cheese and tomato soup dinners thrown in). We rarely ate out. Neither of us were fond of fast food, and like I said, we were use to eating well.

My mother was a more adventurous cook, so I was accustomed to a more diverse menu. When He finished school and I stayed home full time I became the primary cook. I was determined to expand His pallet. Like my mother, I sought out the best that different cultures had to offer. My mother said: "a good cook is good cook, no mater what ingredients are used". I was on a Greek phase, and I decided to try moussaka. I already knew that lasagna was not His favorite (although I love it). Moussaka it was.

It took a lot of preparation and it looked delicious. Well...by my own account it was pretty bad. I have decided I do not like eggplant. I knew if I thought it was bad He thought it was horrible. He didn't say anything. He ate the hearty serving I had put on His plate. However, He did not want seconds (a dead giveaway). He thanked me for dinner. Later when I asked Him if He liked it He said it was good. I asked Him if I should put it on the dinner rotation? ( I read somewhere that the average family repeats the same 20 meals for dinner.) He said: "we don't need to have it if it is so difficult to make". He eats anything I make, no matter what is in it. He doesn't complain. He always tells me He loves anything I cook-even if He doesn't.

He happily endures my culinary experiments...

...one more reason I love Him.