It slipped out once after a family dinner. Quiet, almost apologetic, like he felt guilty even thinking it. "Beta, don't tell her, but..." and then the confession.
I just smiled and let it go. But it stuck with me, because his wife - my mother-in-law - has cooked for that man for decades. That's her whole love language.
So I've made it my job to protect her from ever knowing. I never cook the same dish she's known for. If she's making something, I stay far away from that recipe. I keep my food in a different lane entirely, so there's never a side-by-side, never a comparison to accidentally land in front of her.
He gets his quiet little preference. She keeps her throne. And I keep the peace by making sure those two truths never sit at the same table.