It was just another midday meal at our house—a casual, uneventful moment turned into a full-blown kitchen saga. On my end? A bagel, roast beef, lettuce, tomato, and a healthy slather of Thousand Island dressing. Boom. Done. Sat down, ate, satisfied.

Meanwhile, across the kitchen battlefield, Ken was deep in his usual food experiment. I asked what he was making. With a casual shrug and a spatula in hand, he replied, “Making something Mexican. I’m figuring this out along the way.”

Translation: he had no clue, but that wasn’t going to stop him from turning lunch into a full production. Chopping, sautéing, seasoning, taste-testing, rearranging the spice cabinet—it was like watching a Food Network show in real-time. By the time he finally sat down to eat, I was already done, plate rinsed, and halfway through contemplating a nap.

This is a running theme in our house. I’m a “put it between two slices of bread and call it a meal” kind of person. Ken? He needs a prep station, multiple cutting boards, and at least three pans. Lunch, dinner—it’s always a process. And while I rarely cook anything these days, if I do, it’s Italian food. Naturally, that’s Ken’s least favorite cuisine. Go figure.

Back in the day, I cooked all the time. I had to. With kids in the house, feeding them was a legal and moral obligation. Pretty sure if I hadn’t, CPS would’ve come knocking. So I cooked, cleaned, raised the kids, and worked. The ex-husband? He worked… and that’s about it. But I digress.

These days, Ken and I don’t even eat on the same schedule. I skip breakfast, he eats like it’s a weekend brunch buffet. We both eat lunch and dinner, just rarely at the same time—and almost never the same thing. He’s picky. I’m not. I could eat a peanut butter sandwich three days in a row. He’d need to reinvent a dish with a fusion twist.

And that, my friends, is the great divide in our culinary lives.

One bagel at a time, I win the speed race.

He wins the kitchen takeover award.

So that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

What’s it like at your house?

Eydie