A couple of discoveries made last week have me wondering how I’ve wandered the earth this long without falling into sink holes.

My wife declared that the pots and pans we’ve been cooking with since Christ was a carpenter have been slowly poisoning us over the years. During the first years of our marriage we weren’t serious cooks. Before the kid came along we mostly dined out and neither of us had a clue. We had this really cheap set of non-stick cookware that was really old and it looked like we’d used them for moving gravel from the front yard to the back.

My wife noted that all the scratches in the Teflon was probably eating my brain and that cooking in aluminum, if that’s even what it was, was as bad as eating lead paint chips. Since I need what little brains I have we went out and bought a decent set of Calphalon pots and pans that won’t slowly kill us.

I was shocked by two things. Price and performance. These things cost an arm and a leg, but you really see the difference when you use them. Since those early years my old lady really learned to cook like a pro. I dabble. And when I say dabble, I mean I buy really expensive ingredients and then ruin them and call for take out with a huge mess in the sink. Anyway, even I can cook with these because they heat evenly and my big problem was always controlling the heat.

And then we have James Michener. I thought I’d read every book ever published on this planet but alas, I’ve never read this guy until this week. I had no idea who he was or what he’d written until my wife came home with Caribbean, Journey and Chesapeake. I love historical novels and had no idea what I was missing. I think he got a Pulitzer for Tales of the South Pacific. Luckily he’s written a wheelbarrow full of books so I’ve got something to go on for a while.

So, Michener and Calphalon. Not a bad weekend for the boy.