I Cook. Bob Did Not.

Bob didn’t cook. He liked to eat, especially home cooking. But he couldn’t cook at all. I always liked that about him.

I cook. I can probably cook just about anything. I’m knowledgeable about food and techniques. But not Bob. He relied on me for sustenance. Luckily I take requests. And being an athlete, Bob had a hearty appetite.

When we first met, I’d go to Bob’s apartment, he’d pop popcorn in the micro, and we’d eat it watching Sabado Gigante on his pull-out couch.  When we got to the unpopped kernels in the bottom, he’d always try to repop them by placing them in the micro again, but in a bowl. He didn’t know that the bag has a metal pad on the bottom that causes the kernels to pop.

I cooked him dinner in his kitchen before we moved in together which involved removing the styrofoam and packing tape from his stove and dishwasher, which he’d had for a year. Which is fine. As I said, he didn’t cook. He actually set a potato on fire in the micro once. There’s a button marked “potato” but it turns out that it is only for raw potatoes. His attempt to reheat a leftover potato resulted in fire. Don’t try this at home.

He couldn’t open a bag of chips. Food boxes? Forget it. I’d see him try, pause a moment, then silently offer my hand to do it for him. Which is fine. I prefer the boxes to not be ripped to shreds anyway, so they can be resealed. Bob was so smart, talented and worldly. But in certain areas he was totally inept and therefore needed me. Nice to be needed.

Things are different now that he’s gone. I traded the fabulous, gourmet kitchen for one of those apartments with sticky drawers and no counter space. I got rid of most of my dishes, pans and utensils. Just the essentials now. My oven doesn’t work so no baking and I haven’t had a loaf of bread since August. Bob ate toast daily. I sold the toaster too.

It seems so odd that I no longer use a skill set that took me a lifetime to develop. Having designed a few kitchens, built and remodelled, I went from quite opinionated to pretty much unfussy; deluxe to basic; organized to random. I actually went to open a drawer tonight, and I haven’t opened it in a week or so and it was totally stuck. No soft-close roller hardware on these cabinets.

I actually worry that cooking too much bothers my neighbors, but I’m still fussy about what I eat. But I do keep it simple now. Cooking for one, no leftovers, no more short-order. Not even a dishwasher. It’s cool. The few dishes I dirty are easy to wash up. No gadgets other than a micro. Not even an oven, as I said. But I make do.

I miss cooking for Bob though. I miss cooking things he liked but I didn’t. I miss surprising him after a hard day with some elaborate home cooked meal.

I miss Bob in general. You probably knew this already.