I was no stranger to cooking; It was what happened before Mom or Wife called you to the dinner table. Most of the people on the planet know how to cook. But this story is for the rest of us.

After I left home at eighteen, I ate institutional food at Moody Bible Institute for two years. When I moved out to Wooddale Airport for flight training I boarded at Mrs. Volle’s house and ate her excellent cooking. Then back to dorm life at Cal State Fullerton and eating in the cafeteria. When I departed to fly in southern Mexico for Mission Aviation Fellowship, I roomed in a boarding house. Great food—refried beans, eggs, rice, tamales and tortillas, sliced papaya, fresh tropical fruit juices, café con leche. I used to sit in the kitchen smelling the simmering pots and watching the Indian women scraping the leftover refried beans back in.

Moving to Honduras, I lived with Mario who worked as an assistant to the MAF dentist. A maid cooked all our meals—until Mario spied her lover’s shoes under the closet curtain and dismissed her.

During my language study in San Jose, Costa Rica, my landlady, Doña Maria Eugenia Odio de Esquivel, turned out wonderful meals which she served at her formal dining room table. While there I met Barbara Breneman. Just before we married I moved to Venezuela to live alone in the MAF house‑without a maid. I would buy a loaf of bread and have the storekeeper slice it, a big loaf of ham and have him slice it. Big loaf of cheese and have him slice it. I would freeze all this, then periodically buy onions and tomatoes to create sandwiches. I survived on sandwiches and rice until I married Barbara who cooked for me for the next fifty-four years.

But in December, 2024 when we were living in our Minneapolis apartment, Barbara died. I not only lost my greatest treasure, my loving and faithful companion; I also lost my cook. Kind friends thronged my door with soup, sympathy and casseroles, gifts of mercy which I stuffed into an already-full chest freezer. Today, months after Barbara’s death, I’m still eating out of the freezer.

I did not want to be a needy widower who orders Meals on Wheels and eats TV dinners so I began a timid foray into the world of cooking. I searched online for recipes—rice, fish, various kinds of eggs (scrambled, poached, omelet), chicken and salads (sweet or salty). This opened a new world of unfamiliar ingredients: paprika, cumin, parsley. And unfamiliar processes: sauté, simmer, dredge, mince. I would copy these recipes into a computer file and print them out when needed.

Turned out though, finding recipes were the easy part. The first time I opened the fridge door I was shocked. All I saw in there were ingredients. For some ingredients I had to search the whole house. I found that the spices, for instance, were stored in multiple containers placed in different locations around the house—laundry room, coat closet, random dining room, kitchen cupboards or under the sink. Some were in tiny unlabeled jars (chopped green stuff, mixed spices); some had lids with the wrong label. Mysterious, unmarked frozen somethings in the freezer.

I learned that before you cook you need to create a grocery list of stuff you need to go buy. First, you should verify that you really need all the items. Check recent mailings for store specials and check for other coupons on your phone. When you go shopping, remember to take along your cloth bags to avoid paper or plastic. If the list is long, it’s helpful to group the items based upon their location in the store.

Buy only stuff you can consume in one or two meals. Otherwise, you’ll be condemned to eat only things that are beginning to rot. Yes, rotting. Important to figure out how long things can last in the fridge before they rot. When shopping, pick up the frozen items last so they won’t melt on your way home. Remember to use your coupons at checkout. (The Ht-Vee guy scans a barcode on my cellphone for coupons and loads special gas discounts.) When you return home, immediately empty your bags and put stuff away. (You should really wipe stuff off like we did during Covid but life is too short for that.)

On those momentous occasion when you invite someone over, it gets much more complicated. Don’t forget to check with your guests for allergies and food preferences before selecting recipes. The night before the meal, print out the recipes you’re going to use. Thaw out the frozen stuff. You can even pre-prepare or pre-cook parts of the meal at this time. Then you need to set the scene. Pick up, clean and organize the dining room, living room, bathroom and kitchen. Set the table with placemats, plates, silverware, glasses and napkins. Can you find a centerpiece? Think about the lighting. Pick out appropriate music for the evening. If you really want to go crazy, plan an activity after dinner.

Do as much prep work as possible ahead of time. Warm the oven to heat the plates or keep foods warm. Organize all the ingredients on the counter, measuring them out. Put skillets on the stove, then get out bowls and serving plates and all utensils you’ll need. Combine all the dry ingredients in one bowl and all liquids in another bowl (unless you need to add these at different times).

Decide what needs to be cooked before it’s used as an ingredient (e.g., sauté the onions, brown the butter). Then cook the items that will take the longest (e.g., rice or potatoes). Mind the stove burner temperature. (It was a breakthrough when I discovered there were settings between “off” and “high.”) You can put some of these cooked foods in the oven to keep warm. Use a thermometer to check internal temperature of the meats. Use a timer for critical cooking times. When cooked, transfer the food into serving bowls or spoon directly onto the plates. Seat your guests. Sing a hymn, read a scripture, say a Celtic blessing. Then enjoy!

Dining together is one of the great joys of life. For the first 80 years of my life I took all of this for granted—it just happened. But these days, I’m scrambling to learn what I should have learned 70 years ago.