Husband in the kitchen

My husband cooked for us last night, and it was absolutely delicious.  He doesn’t cook much these days now that I am at home (cooking is part of my “job” now as housewife, and I am also a little precious about “my” kitchen being used by others).  We used to share the cooking out slightly more evenly when I was working, and Simon even used to do the cooking when we had guests.  Now he cooks rarely, and likes to make quite complicated disheswhen he does.  He is really good at following written instructions and unlike me does not get frightened by long and complex recipes.  I, on the other hand, need pictures or to see someone else make it first.  I also have what my husband calls “an anarchic approach to following recipes”!  Anyhow, my husband spent a long time in the kitchen yesterday, and came out with a fabulous meal:  chili  prawns for a starter, Mediterranean baked fish for the main course.  Delicious!

He hasn’t always enjoyed such culinary success, however.  One memorable occasion when things went wrong was just after we’d announced our engagement.  He was still at theological college, and I was a curate in my first parish.  He came to visit and cooked for me on a Saturday evening.  Dinner was sprats, followed by chicken – so a high risk meal really!  My first service on the Sunday morning was an early one at our smaller Church, then I was to be back at the main Church, and I was preaching at both.  I got through my sermon at the first service, then had to make a very speedy and undignified exit to the churchyard (no loos in these rural churches) during the offertory hymn!  Food poisoning had been slow appearing, but had set in with a vengeance!  A couple of days later a lady from the Church came to visit me.  Several of the ladies who had been there that morning had got together and discussed what had happened – and had come to a certain conclusion!  This one lady had volunteered to be the one to talk to me.  I cannot remember whether I laughed or whether I felt embarrassed, but I will always remember the overwhelming feeling of love and support.  These ladies had decided I was in the family way and wanted to assure me of their help and support.  Instead of shock and condemnation (an unmarried Church minister pregnant!), I received genuine Christian love and care.  They were, however,  truly relieved to be told it was not morning sickness but rather my husband-to-be’s cooking that was responsible!



Filed under At Home, kitchen

2 responses to “Husband in the kitchen

  1. LOL. When I was student teaching I wore a dress that was highwasted and a little billowy. One of my southern students looked and me and said, “Miz Meacham, are you preggnant?” I assured Shaniqua that I was not. She just stared me down and said, “Are you sure?” When I reassured her that I indeed was not, she responded with a wary “okay?”–like she secretly knew the truth of what I was yet unaware of. This is also the girl that told me pretty much all her grandmother did was “work at the Waffle House, eat, sleep, and pass gas”.

    By the by, what seminary did you go to? My hubby has looked at several in the UK.

  2. vicaragekate

    Wonderful! What a character you taught!
    My husband and I went to St Stephen’s House, Oxford (where I was the only woman in my year). I’d suggest looking at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford. If you’d like more details and insider info contact me and I’ll email you.

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