Tuesday 6 November 2012

in the soup

For the most part of my adult life I have lived on sandwiches, coffee and fruit. Ok, I've cooked every now and again, I even have my pièce de résistance (lentil soup) (what do you mean it's easy to make?!) and I've always liked to bake. But I admit I'm one of those people who often have only milk in the fridge. I like supermarkets, especially the fruits and veg section, but hate shopping for food. The only way for me to actually grab enough food for a couple of days is to go the market hungry. So hah, that rule sucks!

Seven  months ago I met my current boyfriend and it's been amazing. For various reasons, one of them very x-rated, but most importantly because he likes to cook. Joy! He also likes to talk about food and plan ahead what to make. This I'm not so fond of, but I'll take it, since I know these conversations will eventually lead to me having something delicious in my tummy.

After a billion or so various meals together I decided it was my turn. After all I CAN cook, I've just chosen not to. So I buckle up, go buy the ingredients (and some chocolate to please my grumbling stomach) and start the preparations. He doesn't leave me alone in the kitchen.

me: 'It's ok, I don't need help, I've got it covered.'
him: 'Are you sure? I'm happy to help. It's nice to do things together.'(who is this guy?)
me: 'No, really, this is my gift to you, I owe you a nice meal after all this time.'
him: 'Oh come on, that's not necessary. Why are you cutting the onion like that?'
me: 'Because it told me this is the way it likes to be cut.'
him: 'Hm.'
me: 'Come on, relax, go play with your computer or something!' (am I a great girlfriend or what!)
him: 'I'll peel the carrots'
me: '(only if you keep quiet) awww thanks, you're so sweet!'
him: 'I think it would be nice to add some celery to this.
me: '(it's my recipe, mine!) trust me, it will be so good, I've done it a million times!'
him: 'Yeah but how can a little celery hurt?' (starts cutting the celery)

Cut to the soup (yes, the lentil one, duh!) simmering on the stove for and hour or so. All this time he has to check it every 10 minutes. Various comments: 'It's not looking good'/'Maybe we should have added the lentils a bit before?'/'It needs more salt, right?' I count to a hundred. Slowly. We sit down to the table and start eating. Being an intelligent and observant man of this century he says: 'A really good idea to put the celery in!'

There rest of the soup he had to wipe from the floor.

A week later I made a lasagna. In my own flat, alone. From scratch. For the first time in my life. He ate his share and asked for more. Did not ask for celery. Even called his mom about it.

this is the start of the soup. I know it looks like vomit, but this is not a food blog, people! it really was perfectly good. with celery and all.



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