Food, glorious food…

There’s something so therapeutic about cooking. The aromas and eye appealing delightfulness of tasty delicacies…always gets me going.  With every bite, my mouth is happy–when the recipe is good, that is.

Finding recipes is not the difficult part of cooking. The real challenge is finding a recipe that works, tastes good, and pleases your family. If those 3 components don’t mesh, you’ve got problems.

I’m a stay-at-home mom, housewife and freelance writer. The way I relieve stress is by browsing cookbooks and food magazines in hopes of finding a hidden gem. Quite honestly, if I’ve had a bad day, all I want to do is look at pictures of food. Does this mean I have a problem?

I love entertaining, but sometimes I get a bit high-strung when it comes to execution. I wish I could be a bit more creative in my approach, but Sandra Lee and Martha Stewart I will never be, and I’m okay with that (on some level). All that matters is that I try. I care about making food that makes people’s eyes roll. I love sitting at a large table of people and hearing only murmurs of goodness and joy.

I love to cook, but baking is my downfall. Throw me a prepackaged bag of cookies that only requires I add an egg, and they still come out tasting horrible. I do not know how I do it! My husband, on the other hand, loves to bake and he’s pretty darn good at it. So our marriage really does balance out, considering I pretty much ache for dessert after a good meal.

 

I try to incorporate a dessert into at least 2-3 meals throughout the week. I don’t care what the government says, we are NOT obese because of what we eat, and I refuse to allow society to manipulate me into believing sweets are the devil. My grandmother was a phenomenal baker, and we ate tons of cookies, cakes, pies and other goodies, and I was never a fatty by any sense of the word. Today, I may be loose-skinned, but that’s from lack of toning exercises and I know it. I won’t deny my child the luxury of enjoying good foods, including pastries. In fact, I wish words could describe the moment he first experienced a real Italian Tiramisu. The kid was like a pudding obsessed maniac. His eyes glazed over and his fingers traced the bottom of the bowl nearly 100 times in hopes of scraping up one more tiny taste.

 

All in all, you don’t really need to know much about me in order to steal, swap or share your recipes, because the blog isn’t about me, really…it’s about food, glorious food.

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