This is what I like to call third date food.
And I know you’re thinking. Steak? Third date? Don’t you think that’s a little…much?
Well. Hear me out. There is logic behind this argument. (True, it’s deranged single girl logic. But logic nonetheless.)
Remember. Back in the day. When I used to babble on and on about things like carb loading. And split times. And pacing. And speed workouts.
When I used to wake up at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings. To run for 20 miles. In the name of fun.
Remember when I used to come home, two thousand calories in debt, and shovel down a cinnamon raisin bagel smothered in half a jar of peanut butter.
Those were the days.
My conversation with my brother went something like this.
(Ah yes. More family drama. Get on the edge of your seat. You know this is gonna be good.)
“Daniel. What do you want me to bake for you for your 21st birthday?”
Fully expecting something along the lines of margarita cupcakes. Or a large cake soaked in tequila. Or just a large cake sitting next to a large glass of tequila. Or at least something involving even a modicum of tequila.
(As a family, we kind of have a love affair with tequila.)
You know that feeling that you get when you walk into a really good, old-fashioned candy store. And the wall is decked with remnants of your past?
Those candy buttons.
The little wax bottles filled with that eerily neon-colored liquid.
Pop rocks.
There are two things in life I could never be.
One. A waitress at Hooters.
Two. A vegetarian.
Life lesson #246.
When in doubt. Bake.
No matter what your question is. No matter what you want your answer to be. Bake.
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)!
Summer
