Derwood loves grocery shopping. I hate grocery shopping so it is a bonus for me that I’m marrying someone who wants to buy the household provisions. He usually does the shopping on Sunday but is happy to go to the store every single day, sometimes more than once.
As an example: let’s say it’s a Saturday evening and we don’t have any kids so we are going to make a dinner for two. I will make a list:
- pinot gris (might need a big girl bottle)
- N/A beer
- flank steak
- asparagus
- fingerling potatoes
- garlic.
Deren will leave to go buy these items at one of two or three markets in our vicinity. By “in our vicinity” I mean less than a mile from the house. I won’t see him again for probably an hour. He will come back and we will unpack the bag of groceries.
Then the dinner prep begins:
D: I’m going to make you dinner tonight!
M: Aww thanks honey!
And Derwood starts cooking dinner. I watch him wandering around the kitchen. I watch the clock. I open my wine and pour. He looks up a salad dressing recipe on the computer. He gets out bowls and measuring cups. He stares at the pantry looking for the right vinegar.
I get the steak out to bring to room temp and season it. Turn the oven on and rinse the potatoes, toss them in a baking pan with olive oil, garlic, rosemary, s&p.
He goes to get a beer. What is that song on the TV music channel? Walks over to see the artist. “I used to listen to a lot of so and so and they really influenced my lyrics back then. I don’t think I have a CD of that song. I should see if Nick has one.” Goes back to salad dressing, adds oil and stirs. Goes back to stare at computer.
No! Maggie, I can take the recycling out. He gathers up recycling takes it out to the carts in the driveway.
I start the BBQ and prep the asparagus.
He comes back in and realizes he hasn’t bought a cucumber or ice cream. This evening is not going to play out without cuke in the salad and ice cream after dinner. Off goes Derwood to the store.
I pour more wine, quickly grill the asparagus and tent with foil. Throw potatoes in the oven. Derwood returns and is back at work on the salad which will now have cucumber slices in it; along with tomatoes, avocado and red onion, arugula and romaine. He makes one hell of a salad. Derwood whisks the salad dressing, peers into the bowl and looks around the kitchen; decides to roast some walnuts. He then checks the score of the game. Gets walnuts out of the cupboard, chops them and arranges them on a cookie sheet.
I fill my glass and put the steak on the grill.
Derwood takes a call from work. He’s on the phone for 15 minutes. I drink some wine and stir the potatoes.
He’s back and ready to address the walnut roasting but it can wait till the potatoes are done. I remove steak from the grill.
We talk about work and dance to a song we both love.
Potatoes are done. He puts the walnuts in the oven. I finish my wine and select something to watch on TV.
He dresses the salad and slices the steak. Serves me dinner. I fall asleep after eating and miss the latest episode of House of Cards.
I love when Derwood cooks dinner.
Lol. This was brilliant!
He gives me plenty of good material.
oh lucky you! 🙂
I am! He does keep me busy with his cooking.
I think you’ve got a winner. Just his willingness alone, to be so helpful, warms my heart. Too bad I can’t borrow my friend’s husbands for occasional dinners. 🙂
Funny post, Mags.
love this picture you painted Maggie..lotta love in the words
Thanks Audra. I know you know.
oh that is so funny and that is exactly how a man cooks–what patience you have!
Right?! And I don’t even have to be patient because he genuinely entertains me and he doesn’t even know it!
I have trouble keeping my husband’s attention when he is helping me as he wanders off so much and your husband-to-be reminded me so much of him; and he will go back to the store at a drop of the hat, when I would have just made do
I am with you, I cannot stand going grocery shopping. For one it means spending my money, and two, I run into everyone I know. I end up chit-chatting for a half hour in the cereal aisle with my old fourth grade teacher… no bueno.
New quality to add to the list of ‘what I am looking for in a man’ – Must like grocery shopping.
Learn from me young lady….get a grocery shopper!
Mags, nothing sexier than a man who cooks, cooks well and cooks often. Hubby is the main cook in our house and always has been. This is, of course the way God intended it to be.
I’m with you. I just wish his cooking didn’t include so much of my cooking 🙂
How are you doing?
I read “I fell asleep eating.”
Food is too important to me to sleep while eating but I’m able to check out quickly once Derwood clears my dishes.
I gotta teach my husband to cook.
I don’t know. I have a lot of work to do when Derwood cooks. I’ll tell you though, he is an amazing kitchen cleaner!
Maggie, sounds absolutely loverly! Kinda like our dinners! lol! And definitely better than the “barley incident” …. keep sounding contented!
ittybitty
thanks Itty Bitty! It is loverly, we have such a good time. Contented is good. xo
You’re getting married? Congrats! Sorry, I’m way out of the loop.
You are way out of the loop and you have been missed!
Just like a man! Thank goodness you had plenty of wine to sustain you…
I always cook with wine 🙂
Sounds like an excellent dinner to me, Maggie, and it also sounds like you two make a great fit.
Thanks V!
That seems like a lot of work for dinner for two.
Well, two cooks for dinner for two. 🙂
LOL. I would just nuke something.
Then there’s nothing to blog about!!!
Sure there is! Trust me, there’s room for entertaining failures at the microwave…like the one time I almost blew myself up!
Omg. I’m with Derwood on this one. I go to the shop AT LEAST every day. If it’s market day, I can spend hours dithering around debating which mushrooms to get and whether to have a homemade chocolate brownie and how many olives to get from the Italian man. I’m hungry now…..
He is also really good at yard work so you two could work on the yard, and then go shopping and then cook and I will nap.
Omg. I can see if I approve of him before you get married. Like your over protective best friend.