Wonton soup.

273/365

When the husband and I were dating, one of the first things he asked was if there were any foods I didn't like.

And I don't like onions.  For years, one little squeeky-squish of an onion between chews would be enough to make me gag.  And as far as food detestations go, it's not a popular choice.

So when he asked, I braced myself.  Onions, I said.  And then, without even waiting for his shock-surprise-indignation on behalf of onions everywhere, I immediately followed with: I know I know, they're in everything.  I just don't like them.  I don't know why, I never have....

But instead of saying anything, a slow smile grew on his face and my voice drifted, then stopped.  Why, what don't you like?

As it turns out, the husband is the only (as in, THE ONLY!!!) other person I've ever met that dislikes onions as much as I do.  Red, white, green, sauteed, slivered, fried, whatever.  We hate 'em all!

It was just one of those sweet things that assured us: hey, we go pretty good together.

So to sink my teeth into a hot steamy bowl of wonton soup, fresh from our kitchen and the trusted onion-free hands of my husband -- wow.  It truly was a simple but divine luxury.