Spaghetti has been a favorite of his to prepare, but it's been awhile. He went to the pantry and returned with a quizzical look on his face. "Don't we have any cans of spaghetti sauce?" I reminded him that we got rid of all that earlier in the year, now when we want sauce (rather than olive oil drizzled over the noodles) I make it from scratch. He assured me he could figure it out.
I stepped into the kitchen later to see him hard at work, with a cookbook open... not to the recipe I use. Oh well. I watched him glance at the recipe, grab a bottle of garlic salt and dump a very generous amount into the sauce. No measuring. Back to the cookbook, he gets the black pepper and dumps, and dumps, and dumps. He used enough pepper to choke a horse! I bit my tongue and retreated out of the kitchen. I decided it was best not to see my food prepared.
I love it when my husband cooks!
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