Nothing artificialAugust 26, 2009
“Do you know how to cook?” he asked.
“Do I know how to cook?” I replied. “Oh, do I ever know how to cook.”
That was when the conversation ignited. Blistered and charred peppers, macaroni and cheese, cowboy breakfasts and sole meuniere.
He described the ultimate hamburger. “That’s almost dirty,” I said. I stopped facing forward and turned toward him.
“We don’t eat anything artificial in our house,” he said.
“Of course not,” I replied, already contemplating what I would make for him if given the opportunity.