“So, what’s Stacey call that?” Will asked, leaning over the half-wall next to my desk and admiring the contents of the Tupperware container I had brought to the office.
“Cuban Pork,” I answered, showing off my dinner of pork roast and tomatoes, flavored with bananas, onions, garlic and chili powder, then served over rice.
He groaned with exaggerated jealousy, and I grinned to myself. I’d counted on that reaction.
Actually, I should have finished eating 15 minutes earlier. But I had dragged out the meal, taking longer and longer between bites, hoping Will would eventually wander by and admire my wife’s cooking.
Of course, none of this would work if Stacey weren’t already such a phenomenal cook. But I just love pulling her special Shrimp Creole out of the break room’s microwave, letting the scent waft throughout the office and knowing that her cooking is inducing everyone to drool.
The downside is that Will now gives me a hard time whenever I bring in food that’s merely average, but that makes it even more delicious when I can turn it around on him.
“Just a ham sandwich today, huh?” he taunted one day.
“Yes,” I answered, “but it’s on Stacey’s home-baked bread!”