The kitchen wizard

From the moment I met him, Dennis was a good cook. When we first started living together (as landlord/tenant), I worked a swing shift (4pm-12midnight), he worked the midnight shift. He would cook dinner each afternoon, then after I left for work, he'd go back to bed for a nap before he had to go to work later in the night. His good cooking continued after we moved to San Francisco, but once the Food Network showed up on the cable lineup, his entire demeanor changed with regard to how and what he cooked. Just by watching a lot of the cooking shows, Dennis turned himself from a cook into a chef. Not only were his meals extremely delicious, he was also cooking healthy meals.

After he got out of the hospital in November, his health was deteriorating quickly. Here he is dying, and he was worried that I wouldn't be able to cook for myself after he was gone. So what does he do? He becomes the "master teacher" in the kitchen, first turning me into his sous chef. I would help chop vegetables, or whatever needed to be done to help him cook dinner. Once December rolled around, it was obvious to me that his health was on a downward spiral, and it was becoming more difficult for him to do anything in the kitchen. After my sous chef training was done, it was time to move on and learn how to make things myself. One of the first things he taught me was how to make a roue so that sauces would be no problem for me. There were times when he'd get upset about how I was doing things. Finally, after one too many outbursts, I had one of my own. "Look, dear," I said, "I do not appreciate you getting upset and yelling at me just because I don't do things the same way you do. I am not you, I will never be you. For one thing, you're right handed and I'm left handed. That right there guarantees that I'm going to be doing things differently than you. As long as the meal gets cooked, and it tastes good, you need to back off with the criticism and let me learn in my own way."

"I'm sorry, babe. I'm just so frustrated that I can't do anything in the kitchen anymore. You know cooking has been my passion for as long as we've been kidding about 'The Quiche Pit' (the facetious name we assigned to a proposed restaurant). Everything you've made so far has been fine. I'll try harder to keep my temper in check."

From that time forward, he was very patient with me and had no further outbursts. In time, I was doing all the prep work and cooking without any help from him. I was honored that he would compliment me on the taste of the meals. I always told him, "I had a good teacher."

One of the problems that can come with ALS is swallowing difficulties. He started having these difficulties about a week before he died. Because of the problems with swallowing, I had to change my kitchen routine from basic meals to soups. One of our favorites is a bleu cheese, potato soup. I'd use the immersion blender to make the soup as smooth as I could, so he wouldn't have to chew.

I was honored to cook for him. After 30 years of cooking for me, it was time to return the favor. While I enjoyed his compliments, I wasn't doing it looking for them. I was doing what I could to make his life easier.