Man, I made an almost awesome dinner tonight . . . made-from-scratch calzones. It was so close to perfect! There was just a little something missing in the sauce . . . a little kick. Next time. next time.
I can cook, like six different things. Typically, I'll cook some combination of them and then mix them somehow. Like-pasta sauce for stuffed peppers, or rice for chili. Occasionally, I'll pick up another trick or two to add to the conglomeration. Today was not one of those days. So almost awesome . . .
By the way-what is it about wanting to take pictures of our food? Especially the food we made ourselves? While I agree, it's much more impressive and appetizing to photograph while the meal is on THIS end of the entire digestive path, I'm still not sure where the urge to record the event comes from. I didn't take a picture tonight, but it was one of those nights where I sort of wanted to. I suppose that it looked so visceral . . . the colors and the aromas just bring out the artist in all of us perhaps? Smell is perhaps our most primal instinct, and the closest associated with memory, so maybe that has something to do with it. I'm glad I didn't give into that urge tonight. Because then I'd have a picture of
an almost awesome dinner.
No comments:
Post a Comment