My Lady and I both love to read. The result of this is that we fell into the bad habit of reading at the dinner table, each wrapped in our own little world. So we decided that all we would read at the table would be cookbooks and other food related material.

The reasoning behind this was we found that by reading cookbooks we wanted to share recipes that we found. Reading food advertisements lead us to discuss and speculate on dishes we could prepare. Reading writings on food make us sometimes discuss our own food philosophy and thoughts on what food means to us. (We mean to be married a long time, so the art of conversation means a lot to us.)

Sometimes we spin fancy tales of the things we could make, when all we can afford is much lesser dishes. Or take a recipe and use it to inspire a menu, and make up the list of friends we'd like to share it with. Other times we modify the dish, 'more thyme' I'll say, 'more mushrooms' she'll say.

Today over breakfast she had to read an accounting textbook because she has a difficult term paper due in two days. So in sympathy I read one of her other textbooks. (I didn't want to, but she didn't either, not on such a beautiful morning.)

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