I said that

I was in the kitchen making dinner last night. I pulled down an open bottle from the cupboard and poured myself of glass of wine. It was Pinot Grigio (cheap stuff that I keep for cooking, but it tastes okay, not like the red of the same label which is yuck, but which I also use for cooking). As I did so, my husband walked into the room.

“Is that cooking wine?” he asked.

I answered,

Yes. I am cooking. With it.

(Meaning that I was drinking it, while cooking. Cooking wine, ya know? *wink*)