We're doin' the best we can, man

Years ago, when the building now housing Luciana's Mexican Restaurant on Broad Ripple Avenue was a Greek place called Korey's, Jeff and I discovered avgolemono soup.

It was a life-saver when it was cold and drizzly outside or if you had a cold and were drizzly yourself. It was creamy and lemony and just wonderful. We'd get it for take-out before take-out became routine.  Jeff tried for a while to find a recipe so he could make it at home and finally merged two that gets us 95 percent of the way there.

He's been on a cooking kick lately as we've been sheltering in place and has hit some dishes out of the park -- couscous with chicken and olives and broccoli, his standard and awesome black bean soup, hunks of meat on the grill, pasta with home-made, fancy tomato sauce -- it's been delightful.

Last night, he broke out the avgolemono soup and paired it with the cous cous.

Alison is an adventurous eater, but tends to eat one item at a time, rather than bites of this and that in rotation as most people in polite society are prone to do. After offering accolades for the cous cous, she and Jeff discussed the nuances of the dish as I stuck to the soup. I wasn't really paying attention to anything else, but Jeff discovered Alison soaking her pita in her soup bowl.

He inquired as to why she wasn't spooning it up in ecstasy.

"It's lemon milk soup, man," said. "I'm doin' the best I can."

It was as if she'd pulled out a bow and shot an arrow straight to his heart.

"And I totally didn't pour half my bowl into Mom's when you were in the kitchen," she informed him.

I'm more known for ordering out than crafting gourmet meals, and I rarely wax poetic over the contents even in those rare wins.  Jeff likes to discuss where the ingredients were born, died and prepared for shipment. He misses the mark far less often than I do.

So I just enjoyed the repartee. Plus, I had more soup than I deserved.

In other news, Ali and I were bored the other night and decided we needed facials. Last night, we binged on Botched and agreed that no one needs to look exactly like Barbie.

I posited that men really don't have a say when it comes to boob jobs. Ali retorted that she prefers they speak up.

"That way you know who to dump," she said.

Keepers? Cooks. Even if they sometimes make lemon milk soup.