An english muffin, a tomato and a cup of coffee

You toast it twice, but switch the slots on the second plunge. Butter one side completely … promptly slide it under the second … repeat with the second half. This process ensures even melting of the butter into the nooks and crannies.

Tomatoes should never be left whole in a sauce … should NEVER be eaten like an apple (ewwww!) … but are positively delicious as an ingredient in say, bruschetta topping. They’re acceptable on a sandwich, but only if sliced paper thin. The tomato is wildly complicated … almost as complicated as the proper buttering of an english muffin.

Coffee … three creamers … no sugar. And positively no refills. Refills ruin everything. The balance will never be right again. And you can’t start the new bag of coffee beans until you finish the first. If there are a few remaining in the bag, they go in the garbage. You can’t combine old coffee beans with new coffee beans. To suggest it, will elicit a passionate, pffft. It just shouldn’t be done.

It’s not that I know these preferences about him that makes me all full of love and stuff … it is my uncharacteristically rabid and consistent dedication to ensuring these desires are fulfilled. I vow to love, honor and cherish him … and properly prepare his english muffins, understand the complexities of his tomato philosophies and never top off his coffee … ’til death do us part.