"Pasta," Seamus insisted for the second time in almost as many days. "All you have to do is boil water, put it in, wait however many minutes the package says, pour it out in a strainer, put on sauce, and it looks like you know what the bloody hell you're doing."
The lesson had come from Briony, who had insisted that Seamus learn to cook three meals so she wouldn't be saddled with the chore on a consistent basis, and Seamus banished to the clean up. Of course, when you had a magic wand tucked away in your bag and chivalrously convinced your girlfriend that it really was alright to go ahead and draw a bath or flip on the telly, standing beside the sink while the dishes quickly did themselves was hardly a chore at all.
He paid for the round when it came, a basket of chips as well, and took a sip. "Still not a bad idea," Seamus said with a grin, "as not cooking for meself and having a pint with you is plenty welcome once every week or two."