Swoooooon

I had no idea they made it in this color.
I now have to take random lunch breaks and go to Carsons to look at it and touch it.
Sigh.

My Silver KitchenAid pales in insignificance now that I know of the existance of a Metallic Fuschia Pink KitchenAid Mixer. Double Sigh.

It does not matter what color it is, it is still my kitchen workhorse.

For the love of cookbooks

I love cookbooks, I love to read them. When I was small in size*** AND years, there were always cookbooks by my bedside for reading.
I would read them and think, no way am I eating that, buuut it does look good.
Hmmmmm, soooooo, what if  I took out this ingredient and switched it with an ingredient I like and also switch that ingredient and that ingredient.... and so on and so forth.
I was a super fussy eater, a right good name for a band that, "the super fussy eaters", anywho, I digress. Apologies all round.
I was a meat and 2 veg kinda gal, and more often than not, I didn't care for the meat part either.
Gimme a plate o' chips and sausages with beans for dinner any day and I was yours.

I feel like I graduated with an honor's degree from The School of Good Eater's.
Majored in trying new things, minored in enjoying the shite out of it, and getting a fatter arse.
My degree in Good Eating  has unveiled a whole new world, that without, well, things would just be plain old dull.
That's the REAL reason I am here, to share the world of wonder out there, gastronomy according to me. Can you say subjective?
There are two choices in my kitchen and my blog:
TAKE IT or LEAVE IT.... actually I am misrepresenting myself, in my kitchen, if you don't like it, tell me in advance and I'll work with your physical or psychological food allergies. Don't get me started on psychological food allergies unless you have time, and plenty of it.

I promise, I will get to the good stuff, the recipe sharing, the photos of dishes made, dishes ate, dishes yet to eat and cannot wait to eat.

***I don't think I was ever small in size, Call Sherlock Holmes, I think we have a case of  the rose tinted glasses :o(

OBSSESSED....the good kind

I equate my love of food to that of a first time mother, waiting to meet her new bundle of joy.
Except I feel like that about every morsel that passes my lips. From breadcrumb to apple, french fry to steak.

I'm that girl. NOOOO, not the drunkest girl at the wedding, silleee.
The girl that obsesses day and night about what to eat next.
When eating breakfast, I'm going over my lunch options, while cooking tonight's dinner, I'm thinking about tomorrow night's dinner. You get the picture.

A typical day's internal dialogue:
FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD.. REALITY TV....FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD....DRINK...FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD
It's busy work.. maybe that's why I'm hungry all the time.

My life's pleasure is centred around food, the thinking & talking about, the shopping for, the prepping of, the detective work in the recipe planning, the buying of the cookware & dinnerware and assortment of gadgets, the search for the newest restaurant, the passing McDonald's(or any fast food joint for that matter) and having a come to Jesus with myself over how this time I'll just get a diet coke, not the standard issue large order of fries and a McChicken Sandwich-easy on the mayo please, I'm watching my weight, thank you very much.

I didn't always love food

That's right, I said it. I didn't always love food.
My earliest memory is, me sitting in our kitchen being tortured by my Mother.
Okay, alright, not tortured, eating a dinner I did not like. But in fairness to my 5 year old mind, that was torture. It's all relative, right? And you're relatives are the first ones to torture you!! jk
It was Tuesday(Chewsday), and that meant one thing, Shepherd's Pie.
Ground beef that was grey in color, oozing with grease, tomato sauce, onions, carrot layer, mash layer, crisped mash layer.
5 year old yuck, but a 32 year old delight.
My 32 year old self is able to chuckle at my 5 year old insanity, but back then it was no laughing matter.