Dinner

Bryan and I loved cooking together. Whether it was throwing big dinner parties or just making our weeknight meals, we enjoyed being in the kitchen and composing together. Moving around the kitchen was like a graceful waltz with frequent affectionate touches and butt grabs. While Bryan was sick, I was in the kitchen alone. It was another way his cancer put a line under the things we were losing. I enjoyed making him every delicious thing he asked for or I had the energy to make. But cooking for me, or cooking for joy was not the same. That’s part of loss and grief that is so hard to grapple with. I knew who I was with him. I knew what it looked like to cook meals with him. Here is a new reality. He is gone. Who am I in this space without his physical presence? Without him grabbing my ass as we sweep by each other?

Tonight I had friends over for a meal. Part of me was dreading it, I’m a little ashamed to admit. I was a cook and host with Bryan. I am also a cook and host now, too. There are questions of betrayal for moving on or for doing things that we loved together without him. But I’m still here. And I love to cook. So I did. And it was good.

I made this: https://www.lecremedelacrumb.com/oven-baked-chicken-thighs/#wprm-recipe-container-48122 with some roasted carrots and jasmine rice. I can tell you if a recipe has butter and heavy cream, you probably won’t be disappointed. It may wrap around your heart like a hug, but life is flipping short. Eat cream and butter. I served Adamant’s albarino to accompany. My friends brought a salad. We had a special gateau from the Patisserie for dessert. Conversation was lively and lovely. This home Bryan and I worked so hard to make warm, cheerful, and welcoming still is. It’s different. I wish he were here. But I am still here and I will continue the things that we both loved because I love them.