The Forgotten Recipe
Today, as I sit by the kitchen window, I believe I’ve uncovered a secret to a harmonious relationship. Just between us, I was right. I said, “Do you really think adding that extra tablespoon of salt will improve the soup?” And she shot me a look. A look that said, “Since when did you become the culinary expert?” or, “Don’t you remember that I used to cook professionally, so how hard could it be to perfect a simple soup?”
Not that I would ever belittle her skills in the kitchen or any other talent she possesses. Love means never undermining someone's expertise, so I asked her, “What exactly are you trying to achieve with this soup?”
“Perfection,” she replied. “I’m going to make it taste just right.”
“With that much salt?” I questioned.
“With that much salt,” she affirmed, sounding as though I was distracting her from her quest for culinary excellence.
So, I let it be.
I’ve discovered that letting go can be as important to a healthy relationship as keeping the shopping budget within reasonable bounds. I was doing that when the smell of the soup entered my mind. I’ve discovered that letting go can be as important to a healthy relationship as keeping the shopping budget within reasonable bounds. I was engaged in that activity when the soup’s aroma entered my consciousness.
Balancing the budget brings its own set of concerns. When I finally tackled it, I found an unexpected credit of $50 from a local grocery store. It made me pause. Because $50 was the exact amount I spent on a set of fancy kitchen utensils last month that I was convinced were a waste, as they didn’t make cooking any easier or more enjoyable.
I felt a rush of indignation. I needed to confront the store and demand a refund. I was telling my partner about it, venting my frustration. She was listening and nodding, fully aware that I usually shy away from such confrontations.
Some people are simply not cut out for disputes, and I’m one of them. I’d rather avoid conflict, even if it costs me, which I was quietly preparing myself to accept—$50 and a fair amount of inner turmoil. Because, while I struggle with confrontations, I tend to internalize my frustration, sometimes letting it spill over onto my partner.
So, sitting there, contemplating the refund, I realized, she must have taken care of it for me. She must have gone back to the store and dealt with it. I felt a surge of appreciation.
That appreciation made me think that recognizing both minor and major acts of kindness might be the key to a happy relationship. So, I decided to show my gratitude.
I glanced outside and saw her working diligently in the garden. It looked like she was rearranging things, perhaps to create a new layout. And then it hit me—the garden tools we bought last month were still scattered around. Why hadn't she asked for my help? Surely, managing a garden alone was quite a task. But asking for assistance isn’t her style. She’d rather struggle through it than admit she needs help. It’s a flaw, but it’s her.
The secret to a happy relationship might just be this, love means never trying to make someone good at something they struggle with.
So, I did what needed to be done. Just as she handled my kitchen utensil dilemma, I called our neighbor to help with the garden work. I waited until I saw her approaching before stepping outside.
My partner looked at me, and I could see her process the moment: embarrassment, gratitude, relief. But what I focused on was the key. The garden was being tidied up, and I wasn’t saying, “I told you so.”
There are so many keys to a happy relationship that it seems you might need a whole keychain.
