It’s not enough just to eat, sleep and dream about food.
The inexorable truth of the matter is that when you want to really show your love for something, you have to permanently imprint it on your body.
If it doesn’t take a laser or a plastic surgeon to remove it, then it’s not the real thing.
Fact.
I’m fairly certain I had an out-of-body experience yesterday that involved a jar of nutella and a jar of cookie butter jumping out of my cabinets, into my hands and then scooping themselves into my mouth while I moaned in pleasure protest.
I tried to stop them. By, you know…licking every crevice of the two jars that my tongue could reach and then throwing the jars out after they were empty.
That’ll show ’em.
If you’re tired of having to deal with heavy mayo-based potato salads at summer barbecues then head on over to Marcus Samuelsson’s blog to check out my post about this lighter, fresher pesto potato salad!
What became increasingly apparent as The.Boy. and I packed up every inch of my apartment this weekend, leaving no corner unturned and no book shelf unemptied. Is that I am a hoarder.
And it’s not even the usual kind of hoarding where you keep buying things you don’t need and shoving them into corners until you end up on A&E.
(No comments from the peanut gallery on my extensive cookbook collection. That is an addiction. Totally different kind of disease.)
(And for the record, I sleep with them under my pillow out of sheer love and affection and not because that’s the only place they’ll fit now that they’ve run me out of house and home.
So there.)
My entire life and all of my belongings are supposed to be moving seven stories down, from 12H to 5F this weekend…and if you think I even own moving boxes, let alone have considered organizing even a smidgen of my cookbook collection…well then you are even more in denial than I am.
Welcome to Eats Well With Others, where we take a vegetable-and-cupcake laden approach to life (always with a bit of laughter on the side)!
