Zoe turned two last week, and the party decorations are still up. Perhaps, I’m hoping that if I leave them up she’ll stay just as she is, and I can enjoy her sweet two year old self just a bit longer. Just a wish…after all, I did help her blow out the candle.
It’s Harvest time, which means all sorts of fresh and wonderful vegetables coming our way.
“Not Bad.” These are two words I hear often on my culinary report card. My husband has a Masters in English mind you, but for whatever reason all the many words he has, rarely accompany his taste tests.
Now I’m not saying he is difficult to please. I’m not saying that at all. He’ll take beans and rice any night with a smile, and I appreciate that. What I am saying is that I don’t wait for his words to grade my cooking and baking. What I wait for is the subtle grunts and groans, the absolute first uninhibited response that comes to his taste buds. It’s the look on his face, the twinge of his jaw, and the heaviness of his eyelids. That’s right, the heaviness of the eyelids. It’s where you close your eyes as if they weighed 50 pounds each, and you keep them closed for not one, but two seconds while your senses encompass the experience in your mouth.
