Adaptive Cooking

Let me start out by saying that I really love my girlfriend. I really, really do. It's that special heartfelt connection embodied by the fact that things that some would view as flaws, become the most cherished traits of the person you love. Ashley is truly amazing, and the fact that she puts up with me is even more remarkable. With that being said, I must confess to have just recently worked through a long standing resentment associated with her eating habits. What could cause such caustic reaction in association to the girl I love (besides my general thickheaded behavior, which is a given)? Well let's see....she doesn't eat seafood. I know, I know, it's hard to believe, but oh so true. And potentially even more devastating to our otherwise blissful relationship is the fact that she is adamantly opposed to spicy food.

Let's briefly travel back in time to my younger years, where I grew up near the shore in Connecticut. Before you go imagining a picturesque beach house, resplendent with nautical memorabilia, understand that my family was working middle-class. Growing up near the shore meant that our town was on Long Island Sound, and we were within a fifteen minute drive of the water. But that nearness to the beach, the saltwater, and its bounty meant that I grew up eating seafood, and it became a staple in so many of my eating memories. The Captain's Galley restaurant where fried seafood and onion rings were a religion. Weddings based around real New England clambakes. My father overcooking massive slabs of swordfish (though at the time I thought it was great). Lobsters whenever the prices were down. Getting New England clam chowder at every roadside restaurant from CT to Nova Scotia just to compare. Shrimp cocktail at Christmas. My eventual introduction to sushi. I loved it all, and I still do. It feels like seafood is in my blood, though I rarely have a chance to eat it. On the rare occasions when we eat out, we simply never go to restaurants where fish would be the highlight of the menu. I'm not going to suggest we go to a sushi bar where I get to indulge in one of my favorite things to eat, while she is forced to order a sub par version of chicken yakitori. And at home I continue to crack myself up daily when I ask her what she wants for dinner, then follow it with the suggestion of fish. Somehow it's still funny to me.

With spicy food I may fare slightly better, because I can always kick it up at the end with a sprinkling of this, or a dollop of that. Believe me when I tell you, I am not one of these post-frat freaks who get off on turning their frayed hat backwards and diving into a pile of wings that was listed on the menu as being covered in Gonad Exploding Supernova Hot Sauce. I just love a little heat. Not heat for heats sake, but to enhance the food. Give me a bowl of noodles and a jar of homemade Thai Fish Sauce with chilies, and I am a happy man. Crushed red pepper in fresh tomato sauce...yes please! Sichuan anything...but of course. Sriracha on the pork buns at Momofuku...I couldn't agree more. Spicy salsa on my tacos...gracias! But alas, it remains a solo pursuit that I don't think will change anytime soon.

So what does that leave a man to do when donning the apron for the evening meal? Adapt. Here's the thing (BLD), I love to cook for other people. The act of feeding someone else is a noble act in a world that has lost much of its nobility. And of all the people in the world, there is no one I would rather feed than Ashley. So I cook things that I know she will enjoy. There has certainly been experimentation with her palette; new ingredients, flavors, etc. But I'm not making Sichuan hot pots and presenting it for dinner with the disclaimer that it's something she should try. In the process of cutting out seafood and heat, I've become much more adept at cooking other things, which has been a bonus to my spicy seafood celibacy. Just remember to cook for those you love, with them in mind, and everything will be okay. I just hope I don't forget how to cook a piece of fish.