The French word for " Boss " is our word for " Chef. "
Which might explain what's been happening in our kitchen lately. The part-time job I had at a psychiatric group home was eliminated in February. One of the things I did at LaBelle House was cook meals for the nine residents who live there. I never did much cooking before I started working at LaBelle. Oh sure, an occasional omelette. A steak on the grill. But no real cooking, where you have to follow a recipe, measure stuff and cut stuff up and piece it together.
I really started getting into the cooking. I enjoyed the work, which reminded me of something else I do a lot: Writing. What to leave in and what to leave out. Adding some spice to a dish that might be too bland without it. Cooking a meal is like writing an essay, but with one huge difference. You get immediate feedback.
The residents, for the most part, gave my cooking rave reviews. They liked my meatloaf. They loved my meatballs. My pork chops? To die for. They even relished my hotdogs. ( And groaned at my buns, er puns )
My newfound passion for cooking extended into our home. I started to cook some meals for Donna and me. When we had company, I cooked some times. At first I thought that Donna would love me to death for taking over some of the meal preparation load. But I got this feeling every now and then that she wasn't all that thrilled with my new role. I got the feeling that I was usurping the role that she had played, and played very well indeed, since we started living together ( In Sin!! ) before we were married.
She denies this is true. Says she loves to see me working in the kitchen. But I still wonder if she'd rather see me doing the cleanup work, after we've eaten a meal that she's cooked.
The French word for " Boss " is our word for " Chef. " For years, decades, Donna was the boss in the kitchen. Now I'm playing that role, at least some of the time. I guess one could frame it in a way I'm sure Donna's not going to frame it - at least for public consumption.
I guess you could use another French term for what's been happening in the kitchen of our home here in Rhode Island.