Well right now I'm in California on a rare vacation but will be heading back to my kitchen in a few days ready to report in, and start cooking.
Until then, here's my back story: obviously I share the same crazy family background and it's true that everyone in our family cooks, albeit with varying degrees of proficiency (and no, I'm not naming names). We thought everyone lived this way: backyard vegetable gardens on any patch of land that wasn't concrete, homemade sauce always at the ready, and a refrigerator full of "leftovers" in case anyone was hungry. And really, doesn't everyone make wine and cure sausage in their basement?
I also have to confess that I am to cookbooks what Imelda Marcos (remember her?) is to shoes: I have rarely met a cookbook I didn't like and continue to buy WAY too many. I have a problem with self-restraint: it's what my friend Ellen calls cBad - cookbook acquisition disorder - an affliction from which she also suffers. I'm embarrassed to say how many I have, and my collection is threatening to take over my house, possibly forcing my family to seek alternative living arrangements. Fortunately, my partner in crime (Auntie D) is equally obsessed, and we will be cooking our way through our respective book collections and bragging/lamenting the results.
Stay tuned for more news. Who knows what we'll cook next.
G
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