Dining chez-Lu


With a pregnant wife, an incompetent chef of a husband, no microwave (by choice) and an oven that is on the fritz, you might think meals are somewhat lacking over here these days. Mais non! You would be mistaken!

I cannot lie - meal quality has generally taken a downward turn since Baby-Lu came into existence (well, more to the point, since Mama-Lu started having intense morning- 18-hour a day-sickness). But things have lately picked up as I've grown accustomed to fending for myself in putting flesh on my own bones, especially these days when Mama-Lu is feeling a bit better and I can actually cook things without sending her sprinting to the bathroom to unload a day's worth of nutritional progress. Whereas she was here-to-fore restricted to a sparse diet of saltines, bagels and Gatorade, she has of late been feeling strong enough to venture into more substantial fare. As a result, I have for two evenings in a row been able to do two things at the same time which for at least a week have not been able to coincide.

  1. Enjoy a meal consisting of something other than bread, &
  2. Do it at home without tipping anybody.

Thanks to the recommendation of my mother, the missus decided that maybe a baked potato was something she could eat. Due to our lack of a microwave and dangerous oven situation, J-Lu - who, for many reasons ranging from homemade blizzards to a picnic at Allerton has earned the nickname "Idea Queen" - came up with the idea of cooking them in the crock-pot. Skeptical I was at first, but a few hours later when all 2 1/2 rooms worth of our apartment were filled with the aroma of juicy, potato-y goodness, I knew the Queen had struck again.

And so, for dinner tonight, I enjoyed a scrumptious appetizer of cheese pizza made by the world-famous chef - Jack's, followed by a main course of a reheated (per our wonderful toaster oven) baked potato smothered in butter, sour cream, shredded cheddar and bacon bits.

I'll give you a minute to snicker if you wish.

Moving along, I will get to the true stroke of genius. One of the benefits of being married to a woman who is bringing forth life is that they get to eat whatever they want, or rather, whatever sounds good to them at the time. This behavior - which would be deemed reckless in any other human being - is encouraged by all who have anything to say about pregnancy. Due to the fact that the concept of almost all foods utterly repulse J-Lu, she is encouraged to eat anything that doesn't make her ill. In fact, I have come to realize that one of the best (and few) things I can do for her is to be able to give her whatever she wants to eat.

Because of this remarkable and completely unique condition, in which a member of the human race can - with absolutely no guilt on their conscience - request any food or combination of foods and be completely affirmed and encouraged in their choice no matter what, I was able to walk into Baker's Square on Friday, and with an equally non-existent amount of guilt, order a full plain cheesecake with a side carton of Triple-Berry sauce. Such a purchase for the consumption of two normal people could rightly be deemed decadent, but when there's a pregnant woman involved, all bets are off.

And so, my cheese pizza and baked potato with the works were capped off with a hunk of soft, luscious cheese cake smothered in a sauce thick with chunks of actual berries accompanied by a glass of the sweet, (and potent) port which I picked up yesterday specifically to complement the cheese cake.

Yes, I do miss the bacon-wrapped Cornish hens with raspberry glaze which the lady of the house has masterfully pieced together for me on two separate occasions, but until such time as my queen can return to her command post in the kitchen, I guess I'll have to get by with cheese pizza and potatoes, cheese cake and port.

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About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Papa-Lu published on November 17, 2003 6:25 PM.

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