I thought buying a beautiful, teak dining room table would entice me and my partner to cook more. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It quickly became a place for us to create pretty tablescapes, use as a crafting space, and eat take-out, but it was never graced by our own homemade bounty. That is, until#cook90came along.
When I started working with Epicurious and Bon Appétit last year, I wholed-heartedly believed that my colleagues’perfectly prepared lunchesandInstagramable dinnerswould inspire me to push past my “lazy post-grad with delivery on speed dial” state of mind. In a way, it did. I've never been one to follow the “New Year, New Me” mantra, but when I saw everyone around me getting excited to cook 90 meals in 30 days (with a few cheat meals thrown in for sanity’s sake), I decided to give it a go.
Real talk: I didn’t quite make it to 90 meals. I cooked 81 meals in January, and at least one every day—including acrafternoonparty I threw the very first week of the challenge. Isautéed,glazed,puréed,broiled,caramelized, andparboiled. I’ve madesoup, bakedcookiesfrom scratch, mixed my own Za’atar spice blend, and gave old favorites a new spin. I even usedmy Dutch ovenonce. And in the midst of all of this cooking, I only set off the smoke detector five times.
All the cooking put some homemade food on my new table (finally!), and saved me all the money I would have spent on cafeteria lunches. But it also came with an unexpected perk: It made my partner and I closer than ever.
一点背景:我和我的伙伴slightl工作y different schedules—I work a 9-to-6 day job, he has a handful of gigs that usually keep him out from 8am to 7pm, including Saturdays. Cooking can be a complicated task for us, given that I don’t always have the energy to put together something after a long day and he has barely enough time to pick up something I may have forgotten at the grocery store.
So my first step in making #cook90 work for us was to start getting my groceries delivered. Opting for delivery had a host of benefits. 1. It cut down on my own grocery store anxiety (our neighborhood shop is downright claustrophobic). 2. It forced us to plan out our meals for the week ahead, making it easier to focus on health and variety, the latter of which can be tricky when one of you (him) is a vegetarian. 3. That underlying (and uncommunicated) tension I felt from doing all of the shopping on my own? The one that resulted in a few conversation-less nights in our home? Grocery delivery made that go away.
The grocery situation sorted out, my partner and I got down to cooking. The personal pride that comes with making (81!) new favorite meals for both of us has been rewarding, but there’s one more thing we’ve gained that I wouldn’t trade for the world. For the first time in our six-year relationship, we’re actually having conversation over dinner.
It sounds silly, but stick with me. In our old studio apartment, there was barely room for us two and the three bikes we’ve accumulated, let along a space to eat together comfortably. Pair this with our mismatched schedules, and it became practically impossible to make dinnertime an important time for us to catch up.
Now, as soon as dinner is ready, we’ll turn on the radio and just enjoy having the space to be around each other and share a meal together. Many times, this leads to deep conversations about current events, advice about some drama at work, or just reminiscing over our various adventures. I’ve found that making a meal for someone you love — from planning what’s on the menu and picking out the wine to incorporating a person’s favorite ingredients — has been one of the most fulfilling parts of #cook90. But nothing compares to actuallyeatingthe meal together. When I walk in our front door and can smell the beginnings of something delicious, I know my partner has taken some of his rare free time to create a meal—and a moment—we can enjoy together. There is truly no better way to end the day.
