For a long time I thought I was the only crabby cook I knew. While I complained my way through daily cooking for my picky family, I envied my friends who seemed so Martha Stewart-y, all rushing around recipe swapping and table decorating, searing tuna and braising beef cheeks.

I had not always been so irritable. In the days B.C. (before children), I took pleasure in collecting cook books and buying shallots, concocting fabulous food to please boyfriends and family. But back then I cooked what I wanted, when I felt like it, which, of course, is not remotely how a family food agenda works. When I found myself cooking several times a day, including two dinners, an early one for kids who would only eat six things, and a later one for their father who would only eat about eight things which were different from the kids’ six, my feelings about the whole thing shifted, tumbling downhill, and I became a full-fledged crabby cook.

Ashamed of my inability to experience the joy of cooking, I kept my gnarly attitude to myself. While I pretended to be Julia Child-like, I secretly honed my cooking-avoidance skills: I ripped easy recipes from the magazines in my doctor’s office, trolled the city for takeout options, even invited my mother-in-law for dinner and handed her an apron.

Then one day, not so long ago, I had my mahjong group for dinner. (This is a sub-group of my Book Group, which is an offshoot of my PTA Special Events group.) Between bites of takeout sushi, my friend Kathy announced, “You know, I am just so over cooking dinner every night.” I was stunned. I’d thought Kathy was a regular Rachael Ray: she makes killer stroganoff, freezes pesto in the ice cube tray and owns monogrammed coasters.

“Oh, I know,” my friend Lynn said, “Doesn’t it suck?” I was shocked: I’d thought Lynn was the next Nigella.

But these revelations were just the tip of the iceberg lettuce. Later, I got confessions from Denise and Mimi and Patti: they were fed up with daily cooking. Even my sister-in-law Julie, who writes a food column for her newspaper no less, had this to say about daily food prep: “I HATE IT!”