Monthly Archives: February 2014

Sometimes I get all shirty about wanting people to cook.

Yes, YOU, Meghan McCain.

You should cook. Yes, you. Even if you don’t want to.

This isn’t like saying that you should learn Ovid in the original Latin for the enrichment of your soul, or requiring that you hunker and hone your julienne and demi-glace skills until you emerge victorious in a battle overseen by Alton Brown or Anthony Bourdain. This is about getting yourself fed and taking a modicum of responsibility for it.

You eat, right? Maybe even more than once a day? (Or even if you ingest some combination of nutrients solely through methods that don’t require chewing, smoothies have to taste like something, don’t they?) And I’m going to go ahead and assume that you’d like to continue living in your body for the next while. Assembling foodstuffs for intake without the intermediary of a drive-thru speaker, menu, or segmented tray and microwave is the ideal way to facilitate that.

Yet people object, throw their hands in the air and simply refuse. Here’s why they’re wrong.

Read5 bad excuses for not cooking

Sometimes I write a super-public love letter to my husband

vincent price

I was the first one to say “I love you.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. Since the moment I’d met my now-husband in the flesh, the words had been thrumming in my thoughts so constantly, I was surprised they hadn’t manifested in 3-inch letters across my forehead.

It was too soon. This man was too lovely to be true. I should wait for him to say it.

But that night, half-awake under the covers, curled together as a single creature, basking in the afterglow of having met his longtime friends (who clearly adored him as much as I did), the words kicked so hard at the back of my teeth, they just came clattering out.

Then I held my breath and waited. Three words. Eight letters. My whole self at stake.

ReadHave I told you lately that I love you?