Hubby went away. Will be away for 20 days. He is the resident cook. Heck, not just the resident cook. He is cordon bleu, a cooking superstar, with legendary chef-like prowess.
Many have passed through our door, the invited – and those who invited themselves – testing him, and finding themselves impressed. Always.
So I was naturally apprehensive. With him away, we might grow hungry.
In panic, I sat down to list all the places in Vancouver we could eat at. Then I stopped. Frowned. Led to a different path by my thoughts.
I started to list down all the food I loved to eat as a child, food my mom would cook, food that I missed. Food from a time long ago, comforting, heart-satisfying. From memories that have not been a part of my recent life.
The life starred in by the hubby-chef.
As I listed down my favourite food from my childhood, I was seized by an idea. Why not cook them while hubby is away? With no one to critique my cooking, I should be okay.
Right?