For someone who loves to eat as much as I do, you’d think I’d like to cook. I really do like to cook. I just don’t like to make lists, shop, put the groceries away, and, late in the day, think of what to make for dinner. Because it’s just Mike and me at home now, I tend to think it’s just as easy to eat out. Oh, I’m kidding myself—the kids, even in the last few years they were home, wanted a “home-cooked” meal for a treat for their birthdays, etc. It obviously wasn’t the norm for me to cook even then. I’ve been at this justification process for a long time.

Now I find I want some home-cooked veggies at the places I eat, but very few places have them. . .well, except the cafeteria. I learned something tonight though. Wednesdays are not the night to eat at Luby’s unless you have a little league team to feed. Obviously, everyone else knew that “kids eat free,” so it was one busy place. It wasn’t until after eight when we finished our collard greens, black-eyed peas, fried okra and jalapeno cornbread. I don’t know why I think of those foods when I say home cooking. I never made one of those items, except the cornbread when I did cook. I broke my rule of not eating after 7 p.m. All this to say, I am turning over a new leaf.

I’m afraid I’ve really done myself in this time though. I bought You: On a Diet at Barnes and Noble tonight. Not one of those menus in the book is on the take out order list. Of course, it’s optional still—not much invested, but it is time to reconsider the virtues of home cooking. For one, my waistline, and another, as I get closer to the big 5-0, heart health is suddenly something I think about more than a daily vitamin supplement with fish oil. I’m going back to my original statement: I really do like to cook. I just need a sous-chef.