Who Can’t Cook?
Sunday, March 22nd, 2009
When Tracey and I married back in 1991, it didn’t take me long to come to the conclusion that she can’t cook. I mean, she’s a third generation German raised by Italians; and while you might expect some good cooking to come out of that, Macaroni and Cheese is her specialty – six meals out of seven. I cook the seventh meal.
Tracey’s mom works for Kraft, and Tracey loves Kraft Macaroni and Cheese – so you can see how we arrived at this situation. Perhaps I’m being a wee bit unfair here; however, for the first seven years of our marriage I only experienced my wife boiling water, soaking some noodles, and either pouring something out of a packet or out of a jar onto them – and there is the meal! Well, she could always bake cookies like a champion – mmmm snickerdoodles!
Anyway, one day in 1998 I was in my home office working on some code. I had very unstable logic construct in my head and was sorting out how best to stabilize it when my lovely wife barged into my office and demanded to know from me what I would like for dinner – and it was only two in the afternoon.
