Love a Man Who Cooks and Other Things I’ve Done Right

Twelve years and so many pounds ago...

My love language is gifts, and one of my dialects is food. Fortunately (both for me and him!), The Hubby has learned—over the 12 years of marriage and 17 years of couplehood—to speak it with ease.

The Hubby gets me my favorite treats: popcorn and, on extremely special occasions, Cheetos Jalapeño Cheese. Sometimes, when he comes home late, he brings me an Army Navy steak burrito or a burger. Sometimes, it’s a slice of cake or a donut. Once, when we were still dating, he drove almost an hour from his house to mine to bring me chicken soup, because I wasn’t feeling well. At 10PM. On a work night.

He goes beyond store-bought food though. The Hubby can cook. Oh, does he cook.

To my carnivorous delight, he can grill a perfectly juicy medium-rare steak, with a side of freshly tossed salad, or with French beans sautéed in garlic and butter and sprinkled with toasted almond slivers and lemon juice. His lamb stew is sublime, and his beef-curry-from-scratch, served with freshly-made naan and mint yogurt dip, is to die for. His dinner rolls are soft and buttery, his focaccia will make you swear off diets that make you swear off carbs.

I truly am blessed that The Hubby’s love language is acts of service. He enjoys cooking for people, not just for me and the girls. For Christmas and New Year’s Eve celebrations last year, The Hubby made a complex menu for my side of the family, that he prepared pretty much by himself (I wash the dishes and clean up after).

I don't have pictures of our Christmas feast--but I do have The Hubby's Evernote notes

His acts of service extend beyond food. He doesn’t particularly enjoy driving, yet when he can, he ferries me around to do my errands, he drops me and the girls off and picks us up from our Monday Club. He drives my mom and sisters home, he picks them up too, sometimes.

He’s generous with his time and resources, and like me, he enjoys entertaining people in our home. I’m not sure though if that was always the case. Once, after our last guest went home, I exclaimed, “I love having people over. I really love hosting guests. What about you? Did you always like having guests before we got together?”

And he replied, “I don’t know. I don’t remember life before you.”

Aww. And that’s another reason I love The Hubby.

Here’s to another dozen years, and more.

Blue skies with The Hubby










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