The first date that I ever had with my husband over 24 years ago was a homemade meal at his house. I remember it clearly. He plopped a big steak and some canned corn on my plate and asked if I wanted some ketchup. Romantic right? Well, I thought it was. That is about the most cooking he has done over the passed 24 plus years with the exception of his one and only signature meal, spaghetti. It is a family recipe passed down from his mom who isn’t much of a cook herself although she makes some tasty dishes.
However, in fairness my husband never really needed to cook because I love to and his mom always made sure he had something to eat. He’s a simple man with “meat and potato” taste who happened to marry a women who loves to cook. In fact, if you ask him why he married me, he’d probably say “because she’s a great cook!”
While I love to cook and do the majority of cooking, that doesn’t mean that I don’t think that a husband shouldn’t be able and willing to cook. Due to my hectic schedule I often have “fend for yourself nights.” Those are nights when I simply have prepared nothing and everyone is expected to eat leftovers (we always have good leftovers) or prepare something on their own. And then from time to time, I tell my husband he is in charge of making dinner. His Spaghetti is his “go to meal” and for good reason. On this one night only, I promise myself to step back, bite my tongue and let him have at it.