The fruit pies sell well at the diner in the evening. What began with the simple apple tart recipe now include apple pies, blueberry pies, chocolate pies and others. The children enjoy them, particularly when crusted with sugar. They do not buy our meat pies as often, as they have usually already had dinner before coming in, but sometimes there is a hungry young person, or a late adult who wants a more solid meal. Mr. Hartman has asked if we could make some meat pies for his dinner customers; Husband thinks we would need to learn to "freeze" them.

The pies are easy to make. We harvest a few dozen apples and we make a hundred pies. They stay fresh in our inventory, so we only need make pies occasionally and can sell them for days. I had not experienced stale food before coming to Earth. The children need never experience it from us. Though Husband thinks we need to serve different fruit pies on different nights to make it seem more like they are made fresh every day.

Yet he still cooks breakfast for me. He could probably write Culinarian recipes for the omelettes and pancakes he cooks, and serve me the same thing over and over, but instead he stands in the kitchen with a pan at the stove, using whatever ingredients he can find in the Hartmans' pantry, and makes me food. Some days his cooking is better than other days. Sometimes an omelette is cooked a little too long, or the fruit he chooses does not work well with the pancake batter. But I at least try to eat whatever he cooks, because he is cooking it for me.

I have heard of "food poisoning" in this world. While there are stories of people who poison food, this seems more accidental, as if the food is poisonous if made very badly. Husband has yet to poison me. I should perhaps learn to cook as he does, but if I do I need to not poison him.

He tried to cook some things the Earth way in Eorzea. But for all the equipment in the Bismarck he could not get a stove to work the way he wanted. He was so frustrated trying to make something he called "pizza" using flatbread and cheese and tomatoes. He did not poison me with it, but I think I was unhappy enough with it that he gave up on it before long.

He does not need to cook for me. We have the meat pies we make from beef and pork and venison. In Eorzea we often ate the same things many times in a row. But he often wants to get up and cook for me, and it is sometimes fun to wake him up and ask him to. This is not my world, and the place we live in is not our house, but when he cooks for me and we eat together, for that moment at least we are at home.

The diner has something called a "waffle" on the menu. I think tomorrow I will wake Husband up and demand one.