I like to cook, but....

I really do enjoy cooking. I absolutely adore watching food related television shows, reading cooking magazines, looking at recipes online, buying cookbooks.... but frankly, I rarely cook.

I used to cook. Back in law school, I used to cook a lot for myself. Grocery shopping is one of my favorite activities, so every week I'd gather my recipes, take a trip to the grocery store, and spend a glorious hour walking up and down every aisle, picking up the items on my list, as well as throwing in some gratuitous items for good measure.

Cooking used to be my way into a man's heart. When I decided that I really liked a guy, I would invite him to my apartment for my "date meal" which consisted of this amazing baked pasta dish with Italian sausage and a homemade four-cheese sauce.

I should have known early on that I was falling in love with D, because not only did I make him the date pasta, but I put together an elaborate antipasti platter, and I baked a chocolate pudding cake from scratch. Few men got such treatment. :)

However, after D and I started dating, we became afflicted with eat-out-a-lot-itis. He had always suffered from this ailment, but I seem to have caught it from him. I basically moved in with him the week we started dating. Both because we were sooooooooooooooo in love we couldn't stand to spend a night away from one another (;)) and also because of his apartment's awesome proximity to campus, and my awesome parking garage pass. It meant even when we woke up 10 minutes before class, we still made it on time. Anyway, D had a wonderfully lovable, but disgustingly messy roommate who kept their kitchen in a deplorable state. I didn't want to even walk in there, much less cook anything.

We never spent any time at my apartment, so the night I made him the pasta was one of the handful of times he was there. It wasn't that I lived SO far away, but I lived far enough to make it inconvenient. Even after I had my biopsy in Austin, and my family was there, we dispensed with the formalities, and we all stayed at D's apartment. Apparently he informed him that I would be more comfortable staying there than at my own while I was still unconscious.

Anyway, I digress. To recap: I like cooking, but I rarely cook. Even in Houston, with access to a great kitchen, we still follow the pattern of eating out most meals.

D's birthday is next week, and I told him I would take him to dinner anywhere he wanted to go. He spent some time thinking about it, and he decided that instead of going out, he would like me to cook for him. He figures we go out all the time, so a really special meal would be one that I made. I accepted the challenge, but I'm terrified! I have been scouring the internet and cookbooks for idiot-proof recipes that will also look and taste like a gourmet chef made them. The last thing I want to do is screw up his birthday dinner. I want it to be decadent and lavish.... but also within reason for someone like me. It's a tough balance to strike! So, I will be spending the next week coming up with the perfect menu. I'll letcha know how it turns out. :)