I thought I was safe. I thought this would be easy. I thought the only thing that Alyssa had ever cooked with success in our four years of dating had been Kraft Mac & Cheese and even that was debatable.
Then came perhaps the most dangerous gift of our wedding shower in Chicago…A recipe book. This was no ordinary recipe book – it was filled with hand written family secrets and traditions from friends and family – some passed down over generations. I knew this would be trouble.
Don’t get me wrong I love food…like LOVE food (especially sweets). After all I grew up in the northeast where my Italian grandmothers took it very personal if I didn’t go back for seconds – or thirds for that matter. However, in recent years I have found that the best way to eat healthy is the ole’ “outta sight outta mind” technique.
Still, I figured it would take Aly some time to learn her way around the kitchen – WRONG. Ever since that first dinner together in our new home when she cooked me a birthday feast that included a family favorite ‘Poppyseed Chicken’ followed by my mom’s chocolate cake I knew I was in trouble. And remember how I said that I especially love sweets? Turns out desserts are her specialty. She will disappear in the kitchen and all of a sudden the house is filled with the smell of butterscotch or cinnamon or some other deliciousness.
When I’m home I office out of the house so I’m stuck all day with whatever goodness she was inspired to make the night before. And let’s face it – my will power is not nearly strong enough to fight off these cravings.
I have single-handedly made whole sheets of cookie cake disappear, murdered muffins by the dozens, and destroyed full pans of pumpkin loaf in one sitting. My current battle this week has been Alyssa’s pumpkin pie…
This is a war that I clearly cannot win….looks like I’m going to have to double my jogging miles…