"Entertain and scar people with your lack of filter."

I have absolutely no pride hurt in admitting that my husband, even prior to his training, was an exponentially better cook than I am. He is more creative, he works better under pressure, and he genuinely likes it. I am a lethargic eater at best and therefore, really not a very good cook. With baking, the intention is never to eat everything you make in one sitting. You bake a cake, or a dozen muffins and then you incrementally chip away at it. Sometimes you eat it all in one sitting but we don't talk about those times. To anyone.

So when you husband, who is your companion culinarian that you tote around everywhere, begins culinary school, you know you're in for a good time.

Like this.

Or this.

Caramelized Shallot Puff Pastry? Yeah.

Cute ice cream?! In a lace cookie. Yum.

This is when you realize that struggling through six months apart from each other so that this can be the man you sleep next to every night is totally worth it.

I find a caramelized shallot tart somewhat more accessible than frogs legs, or 'rubbery chicken'. I do think I need to come up with a more endearing adjective when Moozh sends me pictures from school. The default is 'cute'. When your man has built you a fire after a rain when you're camping. When he's just gotten dressed to go out with the boys. When he's made you a majestic meal. HE DOESN'T WANT TO HEAR 'CUTE'. Respect. But when you grunt and say 'Dude, so B-A", they see right through that. Work in progress, guys.