Cooking

Stanley Tucci is ruining my waistline.

Okay, it's not entirely his fault.  He just publishes delicious recipes that usually include my three favourite things:  cheese, pasta and cream.  That  I am powerless to resist is not really his responsibility.

After all, I have a long history of finding recipes that I have to try, regardless of calorie count.  I learned how to make doner meat, which involved kneading beef mince for four hours so I only ever did it once.  I tried making duck a l'orange, which unfortunately led to my discovery that I don't like duck.  I tried fondue and sushi, learned the special techniques for risotto, created my own soups and stews and found my nemesis:  scones.  I simply cannot make good scones. 

My new cooking goals are to learn how to make pasta from scratch and practice decorating cakes.  I love baking as much as making savoury food, but I have to time it for when I have a chance to share the results, because if I ate it all, my waistline would give up entirely.

Lately I've been thinking how much I use food as my love language.  I love making dinner for my friends and family, or creating fun picnic food, or bringing treats to meetings and events.  It's my way of showing people how much I value them, how often I think of them, and how I wish I could make everything better for them.  When a hug isn't enough...I offer a cupcake and a cuppa.  

It won't fix the chaos of the world, but hopefully it will make it seem like a better place for awhile.

  

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