I hated when she sent me shopping. The grocery list was always incomprehensible to me because all the recipes she made contained exotic ingredients. I never knew what most of them were, let alone where I would find them.
Today is what black truffles.
I knew what they were. I’d eaten them before.
At a restaurant though.
I stood in the supermarket aisle and sighed.
“Your wife sent you shopping?”
I turned to find another man looking as bewildered as me.
“Yeah,” I said. “She wants to make this dish that has all this fancy stuff and I never know where to find it.”
The man nodded in agreement.
“How about we say, ‘fuck this!’ and go and get a beer and some fish and chips instead?” he asked me.
I hadn’t heard such a wonderful idea in years. Normal food. Something I recognised.
“Where should we go?” I replied.