I am so lucky to have someone who loves to cook. I asked my best and favorite chef the other day if he would cook the way he does if he were alone, meaning if I weren't there and he was bereft.

I guess I was hoping he would say, "No, of course not, I cook this way because of you."

He said, "Yes."

Oh, well, he's all mine, and he makes dinner almost every night. I can go on thinking it's done strictly for my benefit and just not say anything and enjoy it.

During the summer we like to sit out on the deck and eat. When it's really hot we dash inside. But I like the al fresco dining.

Most of all I like his concoctions.

Last week he made homemade pizza with a sourdough crust.
He has been cultivating the sourdough batter for bread and this one had been around awhile so he used it for the crust.

On pizza, my mom loves it when he adds artichoke hearts. I like it when he makes it no matter what the ingredients.

I haven't asked for anchovies lately.

Pictured is a recent dish. Made on the grill. He told me later he baked it awhile in the oven to get the crust crunchy, then slathered it with tons of veggies, lots of tomatoes. Cheese.
Yummmmm

I actually find myself asking "What's for dinner?" frequently.
The guy just says, "Food."