The other side effect of my hubby’s cooking adventures is that although he is technically doing the cooking, as in the heating of the food, the prep still falls on my shoulders. Of course, it is also only fair that the chef is not left with the dirty dishes, so I will man the soap and sponge at the completion of the feast. I almost forgot one very big problem that happens inevitably every time hubby steps up to the stove top, he is not in the habit of checking on the meal along the way, just when it’s too late he realizes something has gone terribly wrong, and at which time he declares “dinner is canceled”.
I try my best to support my husband in his attempt to provide his little family with a delicious meal, but the disastrous results are frustrating for everyone. I sympathize with his disappointment when the dish doesn’t turn out the way he had planned, last week I nearly had a soup disaster, but I gave myself ample time to correct the tasteless soup with plenty of time before I served it. My husband does not take advice well, in fact he is insulted by my suggestions, and I only make matters worse when I try to offer the friendly advice of checking in on the progress before the half-starved family members look to him for provisions.
This evening was hubby’s barbeque pizza night and needless to say calamity ensued. After four hours of his handmade dough sitting on the counter he realized that the dough was not raising, instead of thinking of a plan B he decided to wait it out and hope it will in fact rise before dinnertime. When the time rolled around for him to start rolling out the dough to make the crust he started to panic and after fifteen minutes of working with the dough he gave it one last punch and grumbled, “dinner is canceled”.
I can say my hubby does not disappoint, he has a steady track record of canceling dinner on those rare evenings that he has taken over the task of furnishing us with edibles, and I continue to give him the benefit of the doubt that one of these times all the elements will align and he will create a meal that we will talk about until the end of days. Although, until that magical evening approaches I will continue to bite my tongue when half an hour til dinner time my husband realizes the tragedy his meal has become and he scrambles to figure out some other semblance of a meal. I cannot be the only one whose husband cancels his homemade dinner at the last minute…..can I?