Actually, I already have one of those. It’s just that I share it with Mr. Twistie and my brother the Medieval Historian and Jake the Fraidy Cat, and it’s not that big a house. Don’t get me wrong. I love them all. It’s just that every once in a while I find myself climbing the walls desperate for some alone time.
Next weekend I will have just that. Mr. Twistie is going to a big music convention in Los Angeles, and my brother is off to spend some time with friends in Santa Barbara. Three glorious days stretch out empty before me to fill as I please. I can sing at the top of my lungs, write fiction, watch any damn thing I want on the television, have a Jane Austen movie marathon that would have the men in my life run screaming with their hair ablaze in horror, take a three hour bubble bath, and dance naked in every room of the house. Jake would even enjoy the tv time cuddled up in my arms.
But while I will probably do several of those things and delight in doing them, they aren’t what I’m most looking forward to. I’m looking forward to cooking all the things I want to eat that one or both of my menfolk won’t touch.
You see, in the past week I’ve acquired a new cookbook and my first ever Le Creuset pot. I’ve also got all those other pots and pans and cookbooks to play with. I’ve already invited a guest to come try out a new recipe with me while the guys are away. I could hear her drooling in a most unladylike manner over the phone when I described it to her.
What is the decadent treat that we’re so eager to try? Roast bass with roasted root vegetables. A lovely piece of fish surrounded by butternut squash, parsnips and carrots. I’m thinking of doing a light soup of some sort as a starter and finishing with some homemade madelines. I may change out the soup for a salad. We’ll see.
I just can’t cook this stuff for the men in my life. Mr. Twistie won’t eat anything that lived in water and while the Medieval Historian will eat it…fish is usually sort of wasted on him. He’ll swallow it. He won’t complain. He just won’t care about it. Most of the foods I love best are ones that these two men either detest or barely tolerate. That gets frustrating. And so I’m going to spend one night cooking for someone who wants to eat the things I want to cook. It’s going to feel good.
While my guys are away, I’ll be trying out some other exotic treats, too. We’ll see what I find at the farmers’ market and my friendly neighborhood real butcher’s counter. All I know right now is that I’ll be feeding myself well, body and soul.
And I’ll be trying out my lovely new soup pot.