We made dinner tonight. I don't think she was feeling so well. She called just after I got home, my roommate wasn't around. She said he'd just left her place; he said he'd left something on the stove here. There was an dirty pan, but the heat was off. There was also a casserole dish she'd brought over. She sounded sad. I didn't know what to say. She offered to come over if I was going to cook a recipe I'd found the previous night; a baked mushroom dish (the reason for the casserole dish. Her mother moved to California a while ago and left her with tons of kitchen stuff.) I had planned on it but I was tired and had almost forgotten. I agreed since it might put her in a better mood and I haven't eaten much this week. He made it back here just after, then walked back to retrieve her after I said she wanted to eat. Living a block away can be nice. The dish was supposed to have mushrooms, butter, parsley, bell pepper, onion, and spices. I substituted cilantro for the parsley, green onion for the white onion (a mistake I think), and vegan butter-type stuff for the real kind. In a feeble attempt to make a real dinner I made some rice and heated up canned corn. Very filling and tasty, even if canned corn isn't as good as a real side dish. Rice is always welcome. There was more than enough for the three of us. Imagine me with leftovers! There's enough for five there. I feel so domestic. I wish I'd had some wine to go with it. Newcastle had to make due. I've found that I like to cook; I like to eat. With my ersatz family these few times we cook at home bring us closer together. Here's to many more.