It was a dark and stormy morning. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell it was just better to stay in bed. It was Saturday; no work, no schedule to speak of.
She turned over, getting comfortable under the thick covers until she realized with a start that she would miss the best of the farmers market if she stayed in bed. And that would mean missing the opportunity to convert the man she was dating to come over, (as he liked to tease about her love of vegetables,) to the “dark side.” He grew up in a meat and potatoes household, and on their first date, shared that ketchup was considered a vegetable in their family.
In their early courtship, he braved broccoli, choked down cabbage, and quietly picked off peppers on pizza. He woke this morning wondering what she would make him for their dinner date tonight. Things had gotten a little tense lately when they shared a meal together.
It seemed better to go out to a restaurant so they could each order what they wanted, but that was not the plan for this evening. He sensed this might be a test of their relationship. She dressed, drank a strong cup of coffee, donned a warm raincoat and headed out the door.
She was a chef and recently found a gig consulting for restaurants. She loved Saturdays now that she was not on the line. Such a luxury to simply cook for two.
She really liked this guy: his quirky sense of humor, his kindness, and his “up for any adventure” attitude. But she was sensing their divergent food tastes might .
