To be perfectly honest, the only food recipe I have is one for
disaster. My husband and I found that out the hard way. We hadn’t been
married very long, and I wanted to make a delicious home-cooked meal of steak
and potatoes. I put the steak under the broiler, waited a reasonable
amount of time and then opened my oven door to 12-inch flames. I
screamed, what else could I do, but my husband simply strolled over to
the fire and blew it out. In his sweet way he told me it would be fine,
we could eat the potatoes. He also said, don’t worry about cooking
anymore, we could eat out.
So over time our recipes for dinner came from the restaurants. When we dine out, we relax into our table and, as everyone knows to do, we look to mind our own business. But sometimes the tables are very close together, and being that my husband and I are both therapists, listening to what people have to say is what we do. In fact, our business really is minding other people’s business, so inevitably we may find ourselves paying attention as it becomes clear that the conversation at the next table is about to go up in flames, just like my steak. The other night we were at one of our favorite Italian restaurants. As soon as the waiter took our order we could hear it starting just a few feet away. The woman began.