Introduction: I happened onto this entry, originally published Jan 11, 2007 at 1HeckOfAGuy.com, a predecessor of Cohencentric, and thought it worth posting here.
About a month before Julie died, I acquired the knack of making seared tuna. It’s not difficult: just brush a small, thick piece of tuna with sesame oil, soy sauce, pepper, and lime zest, drag it through a pan of sesame seeds until it’s coated on both sides, and quickly sear it in olive oil in a very hot iron skillet.
I learned this recipe because. for a time, Julie would eat seared tuna even when she could tolerate no other food, even when I had to feed it to her.
Seared tuna was another of the dishes I learned to cook because – well, Julie was, on many occasions over the years we were married, sick to the point of incapacitation, and, ultimately, she was dying. Discovering food she could enjoy was a blessing to both of us.
Finally, of course, she turned away the tuna as well. It was, after all, only seared tuna, hardly a match for cancer or the ordeals of treatment.
Shortly after Julie died, I taught our sons how to make scrambled eggs, ham and cheese omelets, and pasta with marinara sauce.
That was seven years ago.
I realized only this morning that, other than following the instructions on a box of frozen food or the back of a soup can, I have not cooked anything since.
Julie Showalter was the fiercely intelligent, sexy, and loving woman with whom I had a outrageously wonderful marriage that ended with her death in late 1999 from cancer diagnosed the week of our wedding nearly 20 years earlier. She was also a brilliant scholar, the mother of our two sons, and a prize-winning author. Many posts on this blog are about her and still others consist of her writings. Julie’s Story is the account of our unlikely romance, Information can be found at Julie Showalter FAQ.
Photo by Steven Depolo