My husband would be happy with enchiladas for dinner once every week. I have tried to perfect chicken marsala, glazed chicken with white wine cream sauce, bacon and spinach quiche, roasted garlic citrus chicken, and pork chops with apple chutney. Three layer red velvet cake, Italian cream cake, hazlenut biscotti, cranberry apricot scones.
He'd just rather have enchiladas.
Actually there about three or four recipes that I know will just make him so happy. And most of them involve some sort of condensed soup.
He knows what he likes and he likes things simple. He'd rather have his dinner without the side of pretentiousness, thank you. I'm the one scouring the Internet for unique recipes, buying new kitchen gadgets (like a garlic press-whoopie!), and staring glossy-eyed at the Trader Joe's cheese selection. Trying to keep things fresh, up to date, exciting in the kitchen.
Just give the man some enchiladas.
And while I've been fretting over what to make for dinner I find that over the past four years I have been coveting. No, not the sprawling houses, immaculate gourmet kitchens, or even the peaches and cream complexions of my friends.
I covet their relationships.
I read blogs (alas...the root of much jealousy) of friends only to be regaled with fables of their cross-country adventures, tropical vacations, amazingly large circles of friends, and shared cute couple past-times. And they look like feasts to me.
My sweet husband and I have vastly different opinions of what constitutes a fun night on the town. We do simple things with a small group of deeply cherished friends. Our vacations are spent with family, not in some exotic locale. And as we pour over the newspaper, our ping-pong conversation goes something like this: "What do you want to do?" "I don't know, what do you want to do?"
But as he gently tosses the remote to me, letting me watch a favorite show that is "in no way manly." He spreads his arms wide, inviting me into the circle of us. I sink into the couch, my husband, and a quiet evening of comfort. He tells me about his day and we dream together.
Keep your chutney, I think I'll take enchiladas anytime.
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