Kyle and I used to live within walking distance of Bethesda’s Woodmont Triangle, which meant we could access nearly 200 restaurants without ever having to secure a parking space. 

In the period BC (before children), we probably ate out 3-4 days a week.  But even after that, we still frequented Raku, our favorite sushi place, along with others, such as Austin Grill, Houston’s, Grape Seed, and Cafe Deluxe, mixed in for variety.  

So a long overdue vacation from restaurant sparse Dayton seemed like it was just what the foodie ordered.  Except–it wasn’t.  I really never, ever thought I would say this.  But eating out just isn’t what is used to be. 

And it’s all my husband’s fault.  

You see, Kyle really didn’t have much in the way of cooking skills when we met.  His brother told a hilarious story at our wedding about a cheese soup Kyle served him, which unfortunately substituted garlic salt for garlic powder. 

After hearing that, it seemed natural for me to do most of the cooking.  Until the period AC (after children), when we needed to split cooking duties from parenting duties and I just couldn’t pull myself away from our darling baby.  

So Kyle learned to cook.  As with most things he decides to tackle, he kicked butt.  For example, check out this favorite: Turkish Pasta with Bison Sauce (don’t let the Turkish or Bison part scare you–everyone we’ve ever made this for loves it with a L).  We worked out an arrangement where I would plan the weekly menu and go grocery shopping and he would fix whatever I gave him.  It was just like going to a restaurant, except it was: 

1. healthier
2. huge variety
3. exactly what I wanted whenever I wanted it

What does this have to do with our vacation? 

 With abundant family around, we took nearly every chance we could to go out to eat sans child, like the “good old days” we remembered.  But for me, the best meal of the whole trip was crowding into the new bride’s kitchen to eat tamales with fresh, fried plantains. 

The allure of some chef’s exotic creation has been replaced by the irresistible camaraderie that comes with cooking for yourself and loved ones.   And I discovered that eating better actually makes me feel better.  It’s clear going out to eat isn’t the main attraction it used to be. 

And I couldn’t be happier. 

What I want for dinner!

P.S. For those who do Weight Watchers, the Turkish Pasta with Bison Sauce is only 8 points per serving, low enough to have a piece of garlic bread on the side.  Yum!