Peter pointed out this nice essay in the NY Times by Kate Stone Lombardi: The Joy of (Still) Cooking.

She’s practical–talking about the fun of listening to music while you cook, and of using up all the leftovers–but I think I like this bit best:

I equate feeding my family with love, which is why I cannot imagine stopping now. What would that say to my husband? What would it say to me? I have a friend who opens the freezer every night and selects a Lean Cuisine to microwave for herself and her husband. They seem very happily married, which remains a complete mystery to me.

Yes, the idea of being a nice wife and cooking a nice dinner for my lovely husband makes me gag. But the practice of it is actually quite enjoyable. Just one of those postfeminism disconnects. And of course it helps that Peter does the same for me.