Text and photos by: Corey Amaro
French husband loves to eat. I was
taught that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. It stands
to reason that we'd make a good team. Except
he eats so fast. His plate is cleared-off before I've taken my first
bite. Honestly, he shatters the French image of proper dining
etiquette. He borderlines abnormal in this department. I've often
wondered why he doesn't enter a food eating contest.
To slow down his rapid hand-to-mouth
feeding, I ask him simple non-threatening questions. (Non-threatening
because he could blow food chunks!) Questions such as, "What are you
eating?"
Last night was no exception. I made lentils in a curry coconut sauce. I asked French husband if he could
define the flavors he was inhaling? Barely coming up for air he
answered, "Brown and good!"
"Really," I continued, "I haven't seen brown and good in the market place. Seriously, Honey what is the flavor of brown and good?"
He guessed cinnamon.
French husband knew if he wanted seconds he had to appease the cook. He said the dinner tasted like bananas mixed with little grainy things and chopped white stuff. Adding there were hints of chocolate, eggs and tomatoes. He almost described a cake until he said tomatoes.
I gave him enough clues that if there was a guessing contest between the fish in the pond and French Husband, the fish would have won.
I said, "Brown and good has something white in it. Can you guess the flavor?" French Husband chipped in with, "White Chocolate!" Not acknowledging that response I continued, "It grows on a tree." He said, "Mais oui, I already guessed that one……..bananas!"
You're probably thinking he is being
funny, that he's pretending to be food illiterate. Trust me he is not
kidding. He claimed to our baker friend that mustard would be a sweet
flavor to add to brownies.
Looking at him I shook my head, "Remember your children are listening."
One last clue. "It starts with the letter "C" and it is hard."
French husband didn't miss a beat. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
I smirked, "Don't even say Corey, or you will be eating rocks tomorrow for dinner!"
French husband does love my cooking.
Actually that doesn't sound like a compliment anymore. I'll let you
know what he thinks of rock souffle.
Photos: Of a French vintage journal about love, food and homemaking. Repost from 2007.
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