My all-time favorite church potluck food is the corn casserole. You know, the corn with Jiffy cornbread mixed in. I can never get enough of it.

In what must surely be the bizarrest-ever version of a midlife crisis, I’ve spent the year learning how to cook. Instead of getting a Harley (which I’ve not ruled out entirely), I’ve gone domestic. I had a goal of learning ten crockpot recipes, and I think I’ve gone beyond that. On Saturday, I made pancakes for the first time. In stores, I look at skillets and cooking utensils. Yes, I’m losing it.

In light of my infatuation with cooking, it’s not surprising that I learned how to bake a corn casserole. I checked out various recipes on the internet, mixed-and-matched some ingredients to form my own recipe, and gave it a try.

Jodie, Pam’s sister, was over a few weeks ago. I grilled us steaks and baked a corn casserole. Jodie loved it. In fact, she asked for the recipe (yes, a woman asked ME for a recipe). She called to say her kids liked it. This gave me a decidedly un-guylike sense of satisfaction.

Pam’s not so crazy about corn casseroles, but that’s okay. Just leaves more for me. Potlucks are few and far between, and I haven’t seen a corn casserole at a church potluck for a while. But now, I don’t have to wait.