He: “Can I recognize you from the picture? You don’t have one of those profile pictures that’s of a cupcake or something, do you?”
Me: “No.” <Pause> “It’s a cheesecake.”
He: …
About
Food is all about balance. Not too salty, not too sweet, with just enough spice to knock at the door, but not so much as to overstay its welcome. It’s a push-pull tug of war on the palate, but when the right combination is struck, few other things can compare. Like food, my life right now is about hovering around an invisible median: Be polite, but don’t be a pushover. Be feminine, but don’t be helpless. Be hopeful about the future, but don’t be quick to make plans that are surely subject to change. Be smart, but don’t be a know-it-all. But sometimes I wonder if my middle-of-the-road attitude about everything doesn’t actually inhibit me from being totally passionate about any one thing. Maybe my supposed favor for logic and reasoning is really just a disguise for my fear of total spontaneity. Maybe one day, in a moment of total clarity, I’ll decide the answer. For now, less thinking and more eating. And cooking. But mostly eating.Following
He: “Can I recognize you from the picture? You don’t have one of those profile pictures that’s of a cupcake or something, do you?”
Me: “No.” <Pause> “It’s a cheesecake.”
He: …
Southern Christmas Dinner:
Fried chicken, collard greens, scalloped potatoes, brussel sprouts, corn bread. (Not pictured: Peach cobbler for dessert).
I pulled out my floral plates that I picked up somewhere in Tennessee, just to give it an extra special Southern touch.
As a result of this dinner, I now know: How to butcher a whole chicken into 8 pieces and where to purchase ham hocks (WHOLE FOODS frozen section). If those aren’t valuable life skills, I don’t know what are.
# minutes into It’s a Wonderful Life: 40. # times I’ve cried so far: 4.


If Real Simple did set design for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia…
While I do love city-living and the challenges of fitting all 5,000 of my kitchen gadgets into my apartment, I also read posts like these and feel a twinge of jealousy. I like to torture myself with thoughts of what it would be like to have ample storage for holiday decorations in either a basement <what’s that?> or a garage <just for you?>. Or both <you just had a heart attack, I know>.