Hermione found it quite ironic that, of the three people who had been on that blasted Horcrux hunt so long ago, she was the only one who rarely cooked after the War was over.
Ron had learned quickly after the War. It still surprised Hermione sometimes just how suddenly Ron had matured during those last few months before the end of the War.
But somehow, once Voldemort was dead, it was Ron holding together all the people falling apart around him. His parents were wrecks, having just lost a child, and George was similar, having just lost a twin. Percy was wracked with guilt, that he had run out on his family, and that he hadn't been able to save Fred. Charlie felt guilty for not being there until the very end. Bill and Fleur, and Harry and Ginny, drowned their grief in each other. Ron and Hermione might have done the same, but Hermione was overcome with guilt over what she had done to her parents. She'd have done it again – in a heartbeat. But that didn't erase the fact that she'd stolen their memories – without their knowledge.
So Ron stepped up, finding some of his mum's recipes and trying them, making sure there was always food on the table. Hermione had asked him why, once, and he'd said that he wasn't good with feelings, but "I can make sure their bodies stay healthy while their hearts heal."
She'd wanted to have his babies when he said that.
Harry, on the other hand, didn't learn until after he and Ginny were married (which wasn't very long after the War). They both worked odd hours, Ginny as a Quidditch player, and Harry as an Auror. So they took turns cooking, based on who was home first, or who didn't have to get up early the next morning, or something – Hermione didn't actually know how they decided – it seemed completely random to her. (And she suspected she didn't want to know considering how much Harry had blushed when she'd asked).
Even when Ginny quit Quidditch to raise James, the two of them continued to rotate cooking duties.
Hermione had tried to cook, once, using actual ingredients instead of some scavenged mushrooms as she had during the Horcrux Hunt. It didn't turn out awful, but it didn't turn out great, either. Hermione had never turned down a chance to learn something new, but, at that time, she was about to get some important legislation for house-elf rights passed, and that was more important. And Ron had said he didn't mind cooking, so Hermione put off learning cooking until later.
And then she kept putting it off, because there was always something more important for her to be doing.
But now, now she was one hundred and twenty-two years old. Her kids had moved out a long time ago, she had retired a couple of years ago, and she and Ron were alone in their house.
Finally Hermione was going to learn to cook.