My husband used to be a chef. For like, 12 or 13 years. He's an amazing cook, and consequently does about 90% of the meals at our house. Not fair, you think? Well, it's partly his own fault, because when we first got married, he TOTALLY intimidated me in the kitchen. He'd hover in the background while I was cutting vegetables or selecting spices, making these vague fluttering motions with his hands, like he wanted to snatch away whatever I was doing and do it himself. Well, after awhile, I just LET him!
We've been married 10 years now, and I've gotten comfortable enough so that when I do feel like cooking something and he starts hovering, I just tell him to get the heck out of the kitchen! Most of my cooking, I do have to admit, consists of opening a bag, box, or can and following the directions. Hey, I'm no fool...I may be able to cook something "fancier", but Rick can do it so much better! Why would I cut off my nose to spite my face? LOL Plus he always makes more than we can eat at one meal (the last remnants of restaurant mentality?), and so I have lovely leftovers to take for lunch the next day.
Rick quit "chef-ing" when I got pregnant with our son, a little over 9 years ago. He decided that he'd rather be a father than work every night, weekend, and holiday that the restaurant business requires. He now owns and operates a lawn service. But we live in Florida. It's HOT here in the summer. My poor hubby comes home filty and exhausted, and the LAST thing he wants to do is stand over a hot stove. So I do more of the cooking. Or at least more of the bag- or box-opening! Last night my son wanted his leftovers from the previous night--biscuits and gravy. I had a hot dog. Rick was working in the garage until very late, and I think he threw some spaghetti in a pot and covered it with sauce out of a jar (he calls that his bachelor dinner). So I had no lovely leftovers for lunch today. Boo hoo.
Maybe I can entice him to cook some time this weekend...?