My husband can’t boil water

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My husband doesn’t cook.  He can make a grilled cheese sandwich, or grill some hot dogs, and yes, he has the ability (although rarely used) to microwave food.  That is it.  Really.  Ask the kids.

I’ve been sick with the flu.  For the first few days eating wasn’t an issue…there was just no way I could do more than sip some water.  The husband fended for himself.  As my ability to eat improved, he rose to occasion by getting me wonton soup, mashed potatoes from Boston Market, and making me a chicken sandwich (after expressing shock that you could buy not just sliced turkey…but sliced chicken too.)

After almost a week of takeout food, he was tired of it, and decided he would “make dinner”.  That dinner was going to be grilled hot dogs and packaged gnocchi.  After confirming with me that all you had to do was boil water, add the packaged gnocchi and remove them when they float, he confidently went off to cook.

Feeling well enough to walk myself to the kitchen, I entered in time to watch him take a dripping pot out of the sink, boyishly plop it down on the red hot coil, splashing water with a grin…as sparks flew and I jumped back.

Yes friends, he shorted out the unit.  Just in time for Thanksgiving preparations.

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My favorite foods

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Someone asked me the other day what my favorite foods are, a difficult choice for this self-professed foodie.  So I started to try to narrow it down.  Here, in no particular order are my top ten.  And now I’ll be on the hunt for the ultimate recipes for some of the…I don’t think I’ll be tackling sushi making any time soon.

1. Sushi, in particular Spicy Tuna and Eel
2. Steak.  Thick juice Peter Luger Porterhouse or flavorful rib steaks made at home.
3. Gnocchi.  Equally delicious in nothing but browned butter, or graced with broccoli and garlic.
4. Garlic…anything made with lots of garlic.
5. Potatoes:  mashed, friend, latkes, potato kugel…if it’s made with potatoes, I’ll like it.
6. Truffle oil.  While technically not a food, anything made with truffle oil is sure to tickle my tastebuds.
7. Avocado.  I’m content to merely cut it in half, pour a bit of vinagrette on it and eat it like pudding.  But it’s also quite wonderful in sushi, sandwiches and salads.
8. Ribs.  Spareribs, chinese ribs, short ribs.  Eating meat off the bone is it’s own particlar pleasure.
9. Dim Sum.  I could have dim sum any time of the day.  I particularly enjoy going to New York’s Chinatown for dim sum in the football field of a restaurant Jing Fong.
10. Lobster.  Here again, I’m not particular in what form I have it in.  A succulent lobster roll, steamed with drawn butter, lobster spread on a fresh croissant, Lobster Thermidor.  mmmmmm

Related articles

• Knockout Gnocchi (colesonline.com.au)
• Wine’n About Food-Gnocchi with Butternut Squash and Kale (q104.radio.com)
• From spaetzle to sausages, Gilroy’s Garlic Festival has a pungent bite for everyone (mercurynews.com)
• Raw Intimidation (sushitail.wordpress.com)

We repair what your husband fixes.

There we were, still in the dark.  Hurricane Irene had mainly blown through and the husband decided we should head out for coffee and Home Depot.  Mind you, we’d suffered no physical damage to the house, but he figured this was as good a time as any to repair that pesky sink sprayer.  Innocently, I went along.

It was eerie out there.  Limbs strewn everywhere.  Traffic lights out.  But we arrived at our destination and he determinedly went hunting for and found the seven dollar part.  I should have worried when I noticed the determined gleam in his eye.

Back home, he set about to repair the sprayer.  Naturally, there was no need to read the instructions.  That resulted in about an hour of tinkering, and finally having to remove what he’d installed to read the instructions and do it over.  I finally averted my eyes and left the room, unable to continue watching.

But I could still hear…noises.  Clanking noises.  And an expletive.  Rushing back in, there he sat, holding a piece of pipe in his hand. Repairing the sprayer he’d broken the pipe under the sink leading to the dishwasher.  He’d been at it for four hours.

The very next day, off he went to buy the piece of pipe.  He returned triumphantly, the returning hunter…new part in hand.  This time, I noticed the gleam.  And I left the house in search of electricity, air conditioning and wifi to try to distract myself.  I returned to the house several hours later.  He proudly declared he’d made the repair.  That’s when I noticed the cabinet door wouldn’t close.  Yes…he’d broken the hinge, repairing the pipe.  I now completely understood the ad I’d seen for a plumber: “We repair what your husband fixes.”

He hasn’t yet repaired the hinge, but I’m afraid…very afraid.