My Husband Picked Up His Best Cooking Trick at a Grateful Dead Concert


When Mike and I first started dating, we would cook together every week. We’d make simple, no-fuss meals, like balsamic chicken or spaghetti. Usually, the cooking had to start with cleaning though, to deal with the mess his roommates left behind and washing enough dishes that we could cook and eat off of, so it was probably good that we stuck with easy dinners.

Seventeen-ish years later, we’ve fallen out of the habit and, for the most part, settled into pretty traditional divisions of household labor. Personal proclivities and perfectionist tendencies (Mike cycles through a four-way rotation of which direction the lawn is mowed every time, and I have strong feelings about what laundry should never go for a spin in the dryer), as well as the space confines of a small galley kitchen means the majority of the time I’m doing the cooking and he’s cleaning up.

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