Here's a quiz (with imaginary prizes):
If left to my own eating devices, I would
a) Have a frozen dinner for just about every meal except the ones where someone else cooks
b) Die of malnutrition
c) Live on a giant batch of shepherd's pie.
d) Eat cake for almost every breakfast
e) Any and all of the above.
The answer is E, of course.
But you know what's funny, in a not funny-haha way? Every single solitary thing (book/story/whatever) I write has super descriptions of tasty treats (not just cake) and delicious recipes in them. If pressed, could I actually make these recipes/foodstuffs?
Other people could. Me? Well...I have this whole following-directions problem, which kind of goes along with the shiny button syndrome.**
As I was falling asleep last night, I was thinking, "Hmmm...I could actually SHARE these things, these recipes with you all. And The Chef could help me make sure I'm not effing up big-time mid-creation."
|Get in mah belly. (Lousy pic, I know. I'll get you a mouth-watering one later!)|
- The Chef prepped the meat last night
"It's best you don't ask," I told him. That's best for everyone.