Food, My Love Language

Now, being on the receiving end? That’s a whole other level of joy. I’ve always said half joking, half-serious that I could fall in love with anyone who cooks me a good meal.

No kidding, there were times in my past (dark joke incoming) where I delayed a breakup simply because the food was that good. I mean, how do you walk away from someone who knows how to sear, season, and serve up love on a plate?

I honestly believe cooking is a basic life skill. I don’t care what your excuse is if you’re grown, you should know how to cook something. Food is survival, and cooking is one of the purest forms of expression.

So recently, the kids have been putting pressure on my friend and me for a seafood boil. They’ve been chanting about it like it’s a ritual. And let me tell you my friend delivered. She really knows her way around the kitchen (when she chooses to show off, anyway). The pot was bubbling with flavor, the seafood was seasoned to perfection, and every bite felt like a warm hug. I cleaned my plate and seriously considered licking it. No shame.

After that meal, I told her: “You need to start taking special orders.” Because talent like that should not be hidden in a private kitchen it needs to be out there feeding the world.

And then there’s Mr. B.

Now let me tell you, when a man promises you chilli chicken, you naturally get curious. I did what any curious foodie would do: I hit Google. I needed to know what I was getting into,  what kind of spice level are we talking about? What’s the texture? Is it saucy, sticky, dry, fried? I was prepared for a decent dish… but what I got was a full on flavor experience, gosh, 

Mr. B really throws it down in the kitchen.... Thats all i can say for now.

So here’s to good food, great company, and the kind of meals that make you reconsider your relationship decisions.

Long live the magic of cooking!

Mrs A and Mr B, I love you both..