How Can I Be Mad?

Cranky has confounded himself. He's actually happy, and he's not used to that. All of a sudden, he's relaxed and he likes hanging around the house, and he's not used to that, either.
Oddest of all, he feels more and more like a vegetarian — and he's liking it.
I don't eat a lot of meat, which means we don't buy much of it, so when we go to restaurants, Cranky indulges his meat lust by ordering steak. But the last couple of times we ate at a place known for its rather good steaks, he had a bowl of French onion soup instead.
Now, Cranky is indulging my lust, which he's always been happy to do — but he's surprised at how much he enjoys it himself.
I tend to order "from the top of the menu" — y'know, little dishes, rich with flavor, varied in textures. Nothing I hate more than what I call "a plate of same." Who wants to saw through mouthful after mouthful of unmitigated animal protein? How about a little spark? Some visual gratification? Some fun?
So Cranky has been concocting meals of gem-like bites. The week before last, it was gorgeous, silly Fubars. Tonight we're doing a sequel, but using broccoli and oyster mushrooms on top of the tofu puffs. A couple of days ago, we finished off (most of) the rest of the tiny jar of truffled caviar on these lovelies: New potatoes cut in half, roasted cut-side down on an oiled sheet. Cooled off a little. Smeared with Cowgirl Creamery crème fraîche. Topped with dem fish eggs.
I eat.