August 11, 2012
Despite living in what feels like the restaurant capital of the world, Tim and I eat dinner at home most nights. I usually give him a choice between two or three things I’m thinking of making, I start cooking when he gets home from work, then we eat together in front of the TV with a glass of rosé or iced tea and an episode of Game of Thrones or, um, Futurama.
I think I like these nights best. Sure, I love tasting what the chefs have to dish out at fancy bistros, but what I like better is feeding people I love. Cuddling on the comfy couch with something hot and delicious, knowing I’m doing that most basic of things, providing sustenance for my loved one, feels intensely fulfilling.