Normal?

I made Harvest-Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms for dinner.  The mushrooms are billed on at least one site as a Thanksgiving entree.  I can totally see that.  They tasted earthy (in a good way) and would ground an entire meal well.  My only change to the recipe might be adding a cream base to the stuffing.  It would take a little trial and error, but I think the end result could be worth the effort.

This post, though, is less about this lovely little recipe and more about some dinner time struggles going on at my house.  Here is the long and short of the situation:  about 3 months ago, I suggested to Amy that we do the 21-day Vegan Kickstart.  Honestly, I had no intention of becoming a full-time vegan.  I just thought I could take 21 days to rethink my diet and emerge a healthier eater.  Then I watched Forks Over Knives.  And I was sold on the idea that I could be healthier, more energetic if I cut out animal products.  And for me, there was no looking back.

Amy, on the other hand, still walks around a little stunned that I decided on veganism.  I truly think she rues the day she ever mentioned Forks Over Knives to me.

Please don’t misunderstand; Amy is really supportive.  But this decision impacts her, too.  I cook all the food in the house.  And I don’t cook meals I can’t eat.  Of course, we still have cheese in the house.  I even make her pizza with cheese every Friday night.  But most of our dinners are completely different than they used to be.  I relish this because I enjoy cooking, and I like to try new things.  Amy doesn’t like change.  The vegan dinners that were warmly embraced at the beginning are now finding a much colder reception.  And who could blame her, really?  The poor thing just wants to eat something she recognizes.

So, tonight’s meal went the way of most recent meals:  I liked it; Amy wanted to know when we were going to eat something normal.  I know she wants to just eat something familiar (preferably with cheese).  And she knows it hurts my feelings when I put a lot of effort into a dinner that she can’t stand.  But neither of us can help how we feel.

Tomorrow night, I will be making pasta (per Amy’s request).  I am going to try to keep it as normal as possible.  Cross your fingers.

 

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