I cannot roast a chicken. There, I said it. I can’t make a casserole or a soup, and please don’t ask me to bake a cake. I’ve never been ashamed of my culinary shortcomings, though. Don’t ask me why, but it’s just never been an interest or even a passing fascination for me. My friends can cook. My dad can cook. So why would I need to?

As I was working on this issue, I began reflecting on the relationship between cooking and marriage, due in part to new food columnist Brandy Gordon’s wonderful roasted chicken recipe, which she claims to be “simple.” See for yourself here. According to Brandy, the recipe is ideal for newlyweds, and that’s when my ears perked. Because, you see, I still consider myself to be in that category.

Yes, six wonderful years into my marriage, I still feel like I’m new to the club. Is this due, perhaps, to the very fact that I cannot cook? You tell me.

I recently asked my mom and her four sisters what they would consider the newlywed window. How long does it last? What are the qualifications for a full married person? Must you be able to whip up a casserole at a moment’s notice?

“I would say a year, but it has been so long!”

“You know when you start calling each other ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ that you have entered a new phase of life and are no longer newlyweds.”

“When you have kids, then you’re like, ‘whoa, it’s definitely not about us anymore.’”

“If you marry the right one and do it the right way, you shouldn’t ever move out of the newlywed stage.”

One aunt. Well, she’s not great at answering texts. I’ll get her thoughts another day, because I so value their insight on this topic. Once I explained my feelings regarding my own status and its dictation of my marriage experience classification, one wonderful aunt started offering “simple” recipes she believes I can conquer.

Hungry Husband Soup by Julie Vascocu

2 cans black beans

1 can Mexican corn

1 jar salsa, medium or hot

2 cups water

Heat and serve!

Good served with cornbread and tortilla chips.

Now that I can handle!

As mentioned earlier, my dad can cook—he makes the most wonderful gumbo—and my mom knows how to roast a chicken, or so she says, but I would easily say that 33 years in, they might still be newlyweds. The love my parents share is something to be studied. They have instilled in my sister and me what it is like to be lifelong newlyweds, and I’m so glad they did.

It’s such a gift to be with someone who isn’t worried about casseroles—yes, I’m back to that. Thank goodness my husband doesn’t like meatloaf. And praise the Lord, he has never asked me to roast, braise or do anything else to any cut of meat or poultry. But even if he did, well, I probably wouldn’t.

Of course, it would be great if I knew how to cook. And maybe I will work on that soon. But right now, I’m still in the newlywed window. If I’m lucky, I’ll be here for quite a while. Perhaps 33 years? I’m not sure. Ask my parents.

Looking forward,

Riley Bienvenu Bourgeois

Editor