I tried warning Nik ahead of time, saying "Hey, I'm making something new tonight and you might not like it because it's a girly meal." I feel the need to disclose to Nik that a dinner is 'girly' if it doesn't involve meat. 'Girly' meals send Nik to the fridge two hours after dinner smacking his lips, saying, "You know what sounds really good right now? ...A steak."
But I knew this dinner would be especially pushing the limits of how girly of a meal I could cook, because it involved sautéed pears, cranberries, nuts, and a cheese I had to go to a special aisle to purchase it.
The reaction I got from my husband was unexpected.
There have been two times where Nik couldn't stand what I cooked. A hash brown incident that involved a rotten potato and his first experience with homemade macaroni. But he choked down both and said nothing, cautious of hurting my feelings. It was only until months later it was revealed it was traumatic experiences eating these meals.
Upon taking his first bite of this dinner, his face gave a hint at what he thought. When I pushed for a reaction he responded with a dry, "I'll tell you in ten years what I think." Which I know is code for, "I have to let a large amount of time pass so when I tell you it won't crush your feelings." I gave him som wiggle room stating, "Nik gorgonzola is a pretty strong cheese... it tastes like mold." To which he replied, "If I fell off a horse and ate the manure on the ground this is what it would taste like."
Needless to say, I will not be sharing the recipe. Or cooking with fancy cheese again. Ever.