As many of you know, my husband cooks. That alone is reason enough to stay with him forever, but of course, there are many other reasons why I love him. And he cooks wonderfully delicious meals, whipped up in record time and presented with a bit of flair. Definitely something I am not nearly as accomplished at. I can cook, but my fare is decidedly midwestern in origin - casseroles, crock pot, comfort food and lots of baking! So, having Jeff cook opens me up to new flavors, and dishes I might not ever have tried. And more than that, I appreciate the simple gesture of having a meal put in front of me that I didn't have to cook. Just that one task off my plate makes my life so much easier. So, I am truly grateful. That being said, I have to complain about one thing!! (Hey, it's my job to nag!). The difference in my cooking and Jeff's is that I cut everything up into basically 1 inch pieces and he barely cuts up anything at all. Last night, while eating my salad, I said "how am I supposed to fit this in my mouth?" For one thing, the "salad" consisted of HUGE pieces of romaine lettuce (big enough to choke a horse) and slices of tomato - slices, not dices. So, everything required additional cutting before consuming. And I don't know about you, but I like things cut up so I don't have to do any more work while eating. I even cut up my steak into toddler-sized bites before I start eating so I can just enjoy shoveling food into my mouth and skip all the knife work during the meal. Jeff just laughed at my dilemma and I said "how can a bite-sized girl make it in this world with a big chunk man?" to which he laughed and said "you have to blog about that". So I am! But seriously, maybe it stems from years of cutting food for toddlers and preschoolers but somehow I never left that stage. I even cut baby carrots in half! My salads consist of everything fitting into a 1x2 sized bite. (No, I don't measure it, I'm not that insane!). But I enjoy being able to eat something that doesn't fill up my whole mouth, choking me as it goes down. Jeff has actually deferred to me on this point occasionally. Like last night, our roasted red potatoes fit into my specified portion size. But he threw out his rebel side with the salad. Even his bites are huge. If he asks for a bite of my toffee almond bar from Starbucks, I'm hesitant, knowing it will come back half eaten. I remember growing up my mom and dad always took what I deemed "huge" bites. I hated it when they asked for a bite of my food, because it would come back with a shark-sized chomp. What's wrong with little bites? I don't know about you, but I prefer to see people eat without their cheeks bulging. So, I guess this becomes one of those compromises. I will continue to dice up carrots and potatoes, and slice apples paper-thin. And Jeff will throw a whole side of beef in the pot and call it dinner. Perhaps is harkens back to a time when we used our hands and tore meat from the bone. It's primal and manly. But they invented knives and forks for a reason and I'm happy with that. Now, I'll just be off eating my cookie. Which will take me 12 bites. Jeff eats his in two.