Guest Post: The Editorialite

I'm Maggie Winterfeldt Clark, author of fashion and lifestyle blog, The Editorialite, contributor to the San Francisco Chronicle's Style Section, newlywed, proud dog mom, budding foodie and fitness enthusiast--although the only marathon I've completed was hosted by Bravo. I'm thrilled to guest post on The Domesticated Wolf today both as someone who has known and admired Megan for a longtime and as a gal who has recently discovered her love of cooking. 

Up until we wed a year and a half ago, my husband Chris had been the only one in the relationship who knew his way around the kitchen. He grew up in a house of gourmands where, in his words, “the pantry was stocked with ingredients, not food.” Thus the skills and appreciation for fine cooking were instilled in him from an early age. At a recent Thanksgiving with his family, the artistry extended from the homemade sourdough loaves to vegetables carved into delicate flower garnishes, placed in a vase carved from a butternut squash. I’m not joking. My house was always full of healthy food, but when it came to large family gatherings, we would dine out, and the attitude toward entertaining was “let’s get it catered.” The idea of cooking as a way to show and share love was novel to me.

Right after our wedding, we moved from the East Coast to San Francisco for Chris’ job. Chris was now the breadwinner in addition to the bread-maker, putting in long hours in the office as I worked from home trying to find footing as a freelance journalist in an unfamiliar city. It was during this time that a nurturing, wifely instinct bubbled up; I might not be in a position to contribute to the household bills right now, but I can sustain my family in other ways, such as preparing us healthful, nourishing dinners, I thought, standing in the kitchen and surrounded by shiny new cooking tools fresh off the wedding registry.

Not only did cooking make me feel useful but, much to my surprise, I enjoyed doing it. I looked forward to 4 o’clock each day when I would take a break from my writing to sort through recipes and pick the meal du jour. The dog looked forward to our walk to the neighborhood grocery store, where she waited, tied up outside, as I scoured the aisles for obscure spices, chatted with the butcher about which cut of meat would provide the most flavor with the least amount of fat and reveled in my newfound ability to identify ripe fruits. Back at home, I would put on some music, pour a glass of wine and start prepping.

The process was cathartic; a soothing ritual in which I was able to apply myself to a task that involved both creativity and focus. I could conquer complex meals in mere hours and the work yielded tangible, delicious results. Perhaps deriving joy from preparing a wholesome dinner for my husband sounds like a new wife molding herself into an old fashioned stereotype, but at time in my life where I often felt useless and questioned my raison d'être, this daily process of creation gave me purpose.

Now that we’ve settled into San Francisco and my writing career has built momentum, I no longer have time to do all the cooking. Chris and I have taken to sharing dinner preparation, which brings us closer to where we were before the wedding, when I was overextended, working just shy of full time and taking a full course load of grad school classes. Chris would prepare dinner each night and deliver a plate to me in front of the computer where I was studying. He never complained. That’s how it is in a partnership. Every day might not be an equal division of labor between us, but we both do whatever we can to make the team stronger as a whole. Even if all we can offer at the time is love serve up served up on a plate.