"I'd prefer this if they replaced the feta with animal fat. Like what you trim off a chicken!"
Let me tell you about the other day, when the coals were burning low and I'd just made cream-cheese stuffed jalapenos which were then wrapped in bacon and baked until they were sputtering bacon fat and the cream cheese had puffed up and the peppers softened, and how we ate them in a chain reaction - people watched as first one, then another, then another put a pepper into his or her mouth and then melted as it dissolved against teeth and gum.
I'd fried up the rest of the bacon, because the gang of us were having burgers and who doesn't like that on top of a burger. And then there were worries that the huge smoked sausages that we'd bought wouldn't cook over the simpering coals, so we brought them inside and fried them in the pan of bacon grease. There were children at this meal.
There's nothing else to say: It is barely the middle of August and I'm enjoying a Post-Winter Holiday body. This has nothing to do with you - you are all beautiful, and I envy everything about you, from your brain to eye sockets to hair follicles. But we're not going to be baking, or talking about it, for awhile. I have a scone recipe to share with you, but it isn't devastating. Mostly, what I post here will be about vegetables. That 'Hunter Souffle" in 'True Blood' made me freak out a little too. I'm taking it as a sign.
Salad Days. Welcome to them. I'm looking forward to them! That's why I'm weeping.