My Chef

My husband and I are different in almost every way. While this fact makes me crazy at times, I absolutely wouldn't have it any other way. Reason #1,419,722 that I adore this man? He likes to cook. And he's good.

Me? Well, to give you a picture, I am a Kraft Mac-N-Cheese, frozen pizza, sandwich, and canned soup kind of girl. I'm just to lazy to really cook. Don't get me wrong, there are times when I love cooking. But that's about as predictable as the weather. I have visions of being a domestic diva, but alas... When I cook, I stick 100% to the recipe, and still have the terrible tendency to forget to buy some key item from the grocery store (this morning I made pancakes and then realized there was no butter in the house). Once the meal has been cooked, it goes on the table in whatever pot or pan it was cooked in, and everybody digs in. Ta da! It's actually very anti-climatic.

But Aaron? Well, he's a steak and grilled asparagus with homemade sauce kind of guy. When he is in the kitchen, he's in his own world. He skillfully -- artfully -- creates and invents and tastes and plates everything. Recipes are not to be held to, and meal in a box (when his wife has been too lazy to buy or think up the real stuff) has no limits. If he's wife has been absentminded and forgotten some important ingredient... no sweat! He improvises. (I don't even know HOW to do that in the kitchen.) Nothing is served in it's original container -- he presents and plates every dish and side as though we were at a five star restaurant. If the smells coming from the kitchen weren't good enough to make me come running, the beauty of the presentation would.

He's so good, it's intimidating. But that's the other great part. Even though I'm much less refined in the kitchen, he always loves to eat whatever I put on the table... Well, unless you count the horrible Beef Stroganoff incident. But even then (I think it actually made me feel worse) he ate every last bit.

I love sitting in the kitchen with him as he cooks. I love our evenings spent around the table as a family. It feels like home to me.

Just so you get a picture, this was tonight's dinner. It was originally almost all out of packages, but he put his own spin on things, added here and there, and made it his own. Isn't it pretty?


I had to include this picture because as we were standing in the kitchen, Abby asked, "Daddy, why don't you ever smile with your teeth?" So, he obliged her with his toothiest grin.