It makes fire

My husband realized long ago that if we were all going to survive my time in graduate school, he would have to learn to cook. This was a bit of a tough thing to accept since up until that time, I had done all of the cooking. I was good at it. I was creative. My culinary skills kicked ass.

And then, I completely lost interest. It was really the start of the great downhill slide--a sort of canary in the coalmine neither of us could recognize. We both chalked it up to being over-scheduled, tired, and deeply entrenched in the pursuit of a master's degree.

My husband is a reasonably good cook. He's not all that creative or adventurous, and although he doesn't stray from a recipe very much, he can manage quite well and improvise as necessary. If it weren't for his willingness to cook, I would just eat peanut butter from the jar and go about my business. Some days, especially when I feel low, I wouldn't even make the effort to do that. This is something we both know from experience. During bouts of extreme hypomania, I tend not to eat at all.

Today as I returned from an off-site meeting, I stopped at the natural foods supermarket to pick up a lunch snack what you eat when it's technically too late for lunch). It occurred to me that I would be home long before my husband--something that almost never happens. It was time to shop in earnest. Tilapia, tomatoes, leeks, zucchini, risotto, and coconut crunch ice cream. Lovely.

I poached the fish with the vegetables and some broth. Served with risotto and Parmesan on the side, it was a delicious meal. I think my husband was in such deep shock, he didn't even mention that I forgot to buy a baguette to go with dinner.

It was comforting to know that I was able to remember what that large, boxy white appliance is in the kitchen. If you turn the knobs, it makes a clicking noise and then, like magic, it makes fire! I remember hearing that the stainless steel box under the counter will clean your dishes if you know which buttons to push. Frankly, I don't have much curiosity about this. I usually put my dishes on the counter or in the sink and when I come by again, they've magically disappeared. It's a pretty cool trick. Everyone should have a kitchen that works this way.

If only we could get the refrigerator to keep itself replenished...