A determines pot roast, B says, "hell yeah."
A selects a modestly priced roast with marbling, looking ahead to tender meat. B says, given the lower price compare to rump or shoulder roast, "hell yeah."
A sees in the kitchen 2 Irish potatoes, a bag of baby carrots, a huge sweet yellow onion, and some red wine. Perfect for pot roast. B says, "hell yeah."
B reminds A that B has done the dinner prep for a week.
A remembers 5 days.
A coats the roast with the magic triple spices: sea salt, pepper, and garlic powder. A works 7 days a week, has little time to do that fresh spices thing. B says, "hell, yeah."
A sears the roast 15 minutes each side in a roaster, 375 degree oven. B sits on the front porch.
A encourages B to slice an onion, peel and slice 2 potatoes, cut a package of baby carrots into halves. A and B discuss rinsing knives and onions and do not resolve their differences, but dump them atop the beef. The music appropriate to this stage is Taj Mahal.
A accepts B's admission potato peeling is best done by A, chopping them best by B. B says, "hell, yeah."
A pours red wine 1/2 inch from the bottom of the roaster, covers the concoction, and B says, "hell yeah."
A turns down temperature to 350, lets 30 minutes pass. A requests B take the lid off the concoction, add some wine, let revisit it in 20 minutes. B said, "hell, yeah."
A timed the lid on, lid off, while B found The Chieftains to play all over the house, and on the front porch. B did take out the lid while tapping feet, and remarking the B had done the cooking 7 days, A arguing 5 days, tops.
And THEN, B got a plate and set down to eat, swearing it was better than B had ever prepared. A informed B that henceforth, B was the Pot Roast Cook.
And A said, "hell, yeah."