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In general, I would say I do most of the cooking here. In general. And by that I mean most of the planned dinnertime meals are things I look up recipes for, get ingredients, and try out myself.
This isn’t to say Jesse can’t cook, because he most definitely can. He does a lot of breakfasts for us, and he has about 3 or 4 dinner recipes that he can whip out from memory. These are all delicious, but I’ve pointed out to him that the same recipes often get…well…boring. So the other week he whipped out the Master Chef.
Oh, man. Let me dazzle you for a moment…

First off, he made us pizza. And I don’t mean he went to the store and got the sauce and crust then put them together–no, he actually MADE the pizza. Everything. He kneaded the dough, mixed the sauce, and lovingly watched the oven to make sure they were doing okay.

(Isn’t he cute?)
The final verdict was deliciousness on my part, even if he wasn’t as happy with his dough.
Pizza a la individual…Mmm!
After the pizza, he tackled dessert for Thanksgiving, where he made a pie. Not just a regular old pumpkin pie–again, he took out the big guns, and made Poached Pear Tart with Chocolate Ganache. And again, he made it all, down to the pie crust and chocolate ganache. And again, it was pure deliciousness.
Sooo good…
He also did a slow-simmering Green Chili Soup, with real meat! Very impressive.
Since then, he’s expressed desires to own a pastry brush for better dusting techniques, a butcher block for better ease of kneading, and several other gadgets that I can only assume will make even yummier foods for me to eat.
The Master Cook has arrived, and I am happy to welcome him to my kitchen.
I’m only a little miffed that he doesn’t clean up after himself.
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