As I look over my Instagram feed of late and the photos accompanying them. I have come to realize that I really like to cook and especially for two — much simpler than for a crowd and, I am sure, much more gratifying than for me alone.
(I would probably be similar to my sweet (and thin!) friend whose spouse traveled all week. Many an evening she had popcorn for dinner.
I am blessed to have John who loves just about everything I make. I am trying to think of the exception, and I think it has to be curry chicken. That goes back to our first apartment when we were the caretakers: I vacuumed the hallways and John took care of the lawn, and our rent was $80.00 a month – half-price! The apartment was new, and there were only 3 levels. John was a reporter and commuting to NIU to finish his degree, while I was teaching for the one and only semester I taught. We shared the garden level with the laundry room, a couple from England, and a couple who both worked at Sears on N. Main, maybe 3 blocks away. The woman from England cooked curry often, and she gave me a recipe. It bombed. I probably messed up, but curry has never been revisited.
And so on the eve of our 52nd Anniversary, I thank God for this husband who is the “romantic” of our team, the writer who puts me to shame in that category with his “terms of endearment” and expressions of affection that at times embarrass our children and frankly, me, too.
And I love that he loves me and what I cook and occasionally bake.
