I normally don't overly enjoy meals I cook myself. By that I mean, not that they're not good, it's just that after spending the time cooking it, I'm tired of it. That's a poor explanation, but I don't really know how to describe it. I think maybe it's really that I don't enjoy cooking - it's more of a necessary evil, a chore.
But today, we had a half day at school, so this afternoon I cooked the most delicious pork loin in gravy in my handy-dandy pressure cooker, the only brown rice I've ever cooked that was just the right texture, big brown butterbeans, mustard greens with pepper sauce, yeast rolls and sweet tea. There was no fancy presentation, and I wouldn't call it dinner - it was supper - so good that it was comforting.