Ellis started bringing me lunch every day. The nice weather was holding, so we got to eat outside on the campus picnic tables. Every day, his meals got a little better. I was almost able to actually enjoy them.
Of course, he’d always bring something from a restaurant too, something that I could really eat and enjoy after giving his unpredictable cooking a try. I was surprised Ellis never got frustrated or upset with my reactions to his culinary skills, or lack thereof.
At least, he was noticeably getting better with consistency.
“Okay, what do you think of the filet mignon?” he asked as I carved another tender, juicy slice off the cut of meat.
“Well, this is definitely the best meal yet,” I admitted. I popped the meat in my mouth and let the juices seep out, over my tongue. It wasn’t the best filet I’d ever had, but I was able to appreciate it for what it was. “You didn’t buy this and repackage it?” I asked playfully.