Good food is like good love.

I like to cook. Always have. Even when I was a kid. I'd make pies and cakes. And butterscotch pudding. My brother and sister accused me of hiding the pudding. So they wouldn't get any. But how does one hide pudding in a refrigerator? Impossible. Anyway, when mom was working, I'd come home and start making supper sometimes. And, of course, when I lived alone, I moreorless had two choices. Cook. Or go out to eat. Or yes, a third choice. Starve. I enjoy cooking. And improvising meals. With deli pick-ups. And Jeanne found it a delight that I liked to cook. Relieved her of that responsibility on many occasions. And for that she was grateful. She was a decent cook though. She made a heavenly salmom hot dish, and nice lasagna. We often worked in the kitchen together. And we always ate out several times a week. Breakfast. Lunch. Supper. And in the last few years at home, I did almost all of the cooking. And I'd serve Jeanne on a tray. In the living room. We dined leisurely. Maybe watched TV. Or listened to music. For a while near the end, Jeanne started sticking food between the cushions in the chair. But I caught on to it. And rather than chide her about it, I just cleaned it up. I like to cook German food. A good schnitzel. Brats. Saurkraut. Bread dumplings. Pork roast. But so many other things, too. Can't beat boneless chicken breasts simmered in garlic mushroom soup for 8-10 hours in a crockpot. Chicken so tender it melts in your mouth. Broiled salmon is another favorite, marinated in various sauces. Oh, so good. Good food is like good love. The two can often be combined.