With just two weeks to go until my due date, Hubs has been especially sympathetic lately. This sometimes manifests itself through cooking. Saturday I awoke to pancakes. Sunday, he decided to try his hand at French Toast.
Generally speaking, David and I cook the same way we live our lives. He's got a method and always follows a recipe. I get a general idea of what a recipe contains and then estimate the particulars. It never quite turns out the same.
To my amazement though, David didn't have a recipe for French Toast. He just had an apparently thrilling memory of French Toast at one of the only restaurants (called "The Texas Rose") in their small bush town in Peru. He tried to replicate it. I was completely impressed. He was not as satisfied...but we're not sure if that was due to the French Toast or the memory of the French Toast...eaten after months in the jungle.