Eat

When I first met Kris, I was a gaunt 23-year-old, and food was not a priority. It was only something I did when I needed, but I had poor eating habits and my diet consisted of McDonald's or Buddig sandwiches with extra mayo. It actually worried Kris. On occasion, Gma Betty would invite me to eat dinner with them. During those times, I am told I would eat like "an army". Betty even mentioned to me "I don't know how you do it. I couldn't eat like that and still look the way you do." I hadn't learned to cook yet, I mean really cook. I could do simple things, but nothing creative.

It wasn't until I landed my first table-side waiter job at EBT in Kansas City that I started to understand the value of cooking, and experimenting with different foods. This particular restaurant awoke my curiosity about food, opened my eyes to what was possible. I started to cook, to impress others, to appreciate the work that goes into a fine meal. I learned to identify ingredients so that I could try to replicate the dish at home. Kris loved it.

In 20 years of being married, I used to cook every so often. I don't much any more except for special occasions, like when a boss comes over. Sarah loves those times. It's more likely we will eat out, either just Kris and me, or we will go as a family and eat like horses. Kris will cook, but it is not her favorite thing to do. It is definitely a lot of work, pre, during, and post. We rely on staples, dishes that are easy, ingredients that are cheap and with the least amount of effort. This is something I understand. Food is a necessity, not so much a priority.

When we moved to Switzerland, our family cook became somewhat disoriented. The ingredients here are very different. The restaurants are very expensive. From necessity comes invention. We started to see what we perceived to be European-style meals, or at least Kris' interpretation of what that means... plates of different kinds of cheeses with jams, assorted meats, bratwursts, pastas... Last night, this creativity came to an end.

her: I just don't know what to cook here.
me: Did you before?
her: Pff. You're a funny man. A bowl of cereal for you.