(This is somewhat rare, only in that I can count on my fingers the number of times I have cooked for J. We weren't at my place very often, and I am really good at one person meals after many years of practice. I also am not a good experimental cook, though I will happily try a new recipe.)
So cooking. I decided to make the salsa-mango chicken. I learned that apparently mangos are my enemy. Seriously by the time I finished cutting up the mango I had bandaids on two of my fingers, and probably a little more fruit than I should have in the trash. <Sigh> I would also like to learn to cook rice without having a layer of it stick to the bottom of the pan. But other than those two mishaps dinner was yummy. It was easy and nutritious, and look at me being all domestic and cooking for my man when he arrives home from work.
Except for the part where J was at work late last night. So his meal had been ready for an hour when he got here. Perhaps that is a sign that this domestic stuff is not for me. That, or the bandaids.