I have a confession to make. I don’t cook very often. My husband was raised in the restaurant business and started scraping gum off the bottom of tables with a putty knife when he was too little to remember. One thing led to another and he started food preparation when he was very young. Being around food and people who cooked well caught on with him.
Fast forward 40 years, imagine coming into the house after work or coming home from running errands and smelling wonderful aromas and tantalizing smells coming from the kitchen when you didn’t have to create them. My husband has told stories all his life about how much the women around him hated it when he cooked. Are they nuts?!? It was one of the first things I learned to adore about the man.
Grilled Salmon? Done. Molten Chocolate Desserts? Done. Dinner party for 20? Done. Anything my little heart desires? He’ll give it a go and I am not complaining. I do offer to be “sous chef” on occasion. I can season and toss a pretty good salad or top off the veggies or prepare the garlic bread.
One of his favorite Christmas gifts was from our Lisa. She made a variety of “Dump Meals” that could be kept in the freezer until needed. Michael loved them. They were like instant magic with zero effort. Put them in the Dutch Oven and relax. He’d add a vegetable or a salad and dinner was ready. Even the most talented Chef needs a break once in a while.
Do I feel spoiled? Of course. Would I have it any other way? Not by my choice. Do I miss being responsible for the meals at home? Not especially. Do I feel blessed? Absolutely.
P.S. He also does the grocery shopping.