I just realized my last post had NOTHING to do with food. Sure, I could stretch it and say that gardening has everything to do with food. But frankly, I'd be way off in left field counting the petunias if I did that.
SO Here are a few words on food.
While I was gardening my wonderful hubby asked if I wanted a sandwich. 'Sure', I said and put my nose back to the grindstone. About a half hour later a plate with a very simple 'guy' sandwich showed up on the steps with a bottle of "steam whistle" beer next to it. (a 'guy sandwhich' is an uncut, flat meat no thing fancy constructed sandwich)
Now, my husband is NOT a foodie. His idea of a great meal is anything someone else has cooked. His favourite dessert is grape jello, so I wasn't expecting much.
I took off my gloves, sat next to the plate and looked at it with sceptical eyes. I picked it up and gingerly lifted the top slice of bread with my grimy fingers, pinkie high, nose wrinkled for deliberate effect. And what did I find? Two slices of deli turkey, dry bread and wait, what is that on top of the turkey? Olives? Sliced garlic filled olives. Now that is interesting.
I took a big swig of my beer to get grounded. I picked up the sandwich with both hands and took a big bite. And it was good. Really good. Not only because it was, something old in a new way. (how many times have you eaten turkey sandwiches in your life?) It was good because my wonderful, non-foodie husband took the time to be creative with food. Not because it mattered to him. (I've seen him eat 'wish sandwiches and be happy) Nope, he did it for me.
And that is why I love him. Because although he may not often hit the mark, he never stops trying.
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