dining in.

Vacations usually involve more eating out than our regular weeks normally contain.

Much more.

I love the convenience.

Love it.

I love not cooking.  I love not cleaning.

I love choices.  And refills.  And spills soaked up by Not Me.

However.

I always walk away at week’s end being reminded

that homemade really is . . . well, better.

Not as if I have ever served tilapia or chicken stuffed with mushrooms (or chicken stuffed with anything actually).

But homemade is still good.

The cooking?  Sure.

But so much more, of course.

The sharing of space in the kitchen.

The buying local and cooking fresh.

The eating of the same food at the same time prepared by the hands of someone you love.

All that shared experience.

Time spent in the same space.

It’s good.

It’s a part of the whole picture of what I love about Home.