I’ve learnt now, but for a while, B & I used to go through the same routine most nights.
C: Baby, what do you feel like for dinner; Tomato & Mushroom Pasta or Malay Curry with Caramelized Pumpkin? (Calling from within the pantry)
B: Where’s the meat? (Asked with exasperation)
So don’t tell B but the other evening the only protein in the house was a thick slab of steak. Under no circumstance was I adding steak cubes to my lovingly prepared pasta.
We sat down outside; candles flickering, a soft breeze blowing over the vineyards, and I stated the ingredients of the pasta with a flourish of my napkin and pride in my voice.
There was a brief pause. A slight almost undetectable slump in his shoulders.
“Oh, and bacon” I quickly white lied.
With this a broad smile broke out across his face and I was given a ‘bon appetit’ kiss and a dove flew over our table and into the sunset with an olive branch in it’s beak.