when we cook

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My role as prep chef has evolved in the last sixteen years (tomorrow! I love anniversaries!)

It started with, “Aaaaggh! Cross contamination! You’ll kill us all!” as the chicken hovered perilously close to the veggies…
Evolving to, “Let me wash that! And clean that! And that!” wisking dishes and knives out of his grasp…
And finally to a well cooperative kitchen arrangement, where I do the prep that he asks me to, and if I do question, “You did wash that?” I do get a rather funny look and a response in the affirmative.

My role as chief coffee maker has not changed.

But seeing as how our coffee makers keep breaking down, maybe I should delegate…in the meantime, the french press that was being used as a martini shaker is now back to its original use.

Coffee is great when the basset wakes me up at 6:00 because he’s teething. At least, I think that’s why he wakes me up. He only has two more fangs to lose, and the ones on top are coming in before the old ones have fallen out, so he’s got doubles.

The puppy manages to be cute and gross at the same time. All forty pounds of wiggle and drool. Gotta love him that early in the morning, coffee or not.

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2 Responses to when we cook

  1. Francesca says:

    oh, I do need the coffee to love anything and anybody that wakes me up too early! :)

  2. knitsofacto says:

    I know a man with much the same attitude to kitchen hygiene. Perhaps they’re all like it!

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