Hey guys!!! I’m back! It’s been what seems like forever. The flu really kicked my butt and I’m still not one hundred percent myself. I haven’t cook in over two weeks! That is so crazy. But I have some new recipes that I wanna try and will post one of them by tomorrow. I’m so excited to be back! Stay tuned for my next post. Hopefully it makes you hungry!
I officially have the flu. There has been no cooking in my home for the past three days. I had a new post with a recipe planned but the inevitable happened. When you have kiddies who come home with the flu you are doomed. I feel almost lifeless. Back to bed I go. Hope everyone else is in good health and eating delicious meals.
As you’ve read in my previous post I have a serious love affair with food and cooking. Cooking is my happy place. It’s the place where I escape all the worries of the world and lay all my burdens down into making a tasty dish. Eating delicious food from any wonderful talented cook is like a euphoric sexual experince. The beautiful presentation, the taste, and tantalizing smell, it is all so orgasmic. Unfortunately for me my other half doesn’t see food in this light. He could live without it. To him food is just that, food. There is no excitement for him when a beautiful plate is placed before him. The is no sparkle in his eye when picking up a fork to get the first fork full of goodness and there is a fake smile when taking the first bite. Food brings him no pleasure. How am I a lover of all food supposed to live with that? How am I to get satisfaction from cooking him a delicious meal when he could give a damn about flavor profiles and presentation? Meat is meat he says, it’s just to nourish the body. What the fuck?! I’m trapped in a cooks hell! I have a disgruntled food critic constantly at my table. This can’t be life!
I can still remember the smell of fresh buttermilk biscuits tickling my nose as I slept in my room at my grandparent’s home. It would wake me out of my deep slumber just like an alarm clock. I knew that country bacon was also included in this sweet aroma that made my little tummy growl with anticipation. I would hurry out of bed, shuffle my feet towards the kitchen, and take my place at the breakfast table knowing I was going to have thee best southern breakfast ever. Biscuits with real butter and sweet molasses poured inside, thick crispy country bacon that it’s fat melted in your mouth as you chewed, fluffy scrambled eggs that were cooked to perfection, and last but not least creamy grits with a pool of real butter on top. My love affair with food began with my grandfather’s cooking, in my grandparent’s home, that I spent countless weekends and summers. My grandfather would push a little stool up to the kitchen counter and taught me how to add a little salt here, a dash of spice there. He provided me the tools that made it possible to carry on his recipes long after he was gone. He shared with me the love of cooking. Now I cook for my family and my love affair with food continues. Now it’s my children who awaken from the smell of buttermilk biscuits and country bacon. It is now my daughter who stands next to me on her step stool learning to add a little spice here and a dash of salt there. I am excited to have you join me in this love affair of cooking food that nourishes not only your body but touches the soul.