I have a hard time proclaiming that I’ll do things and then following through with them til the
bitter very end. I’m talking projects here, people. Resolutions.
This is the day, right? Where everyone states “In 2011 I WILL …………. dot dot dot dot dot dotttttttt……”
So instead, don’t mind me, I’m going to proclaim to do nothing which is obviously something I can break and be very proud of. Right? Reverse psychology on myself should work, or no?
Either way. I don’t care. This year holds the unexpected and I’ll take it as it comes. In the mean time I’m falling in love with these recipes I’m going to tackle soon:
Burger Buns by the Smitten Kitchen (She’s on my stalker list, LOVE her).
Curry Chicken Soup from Tasty Chicken.
Homemade flour tortillas from The Pioneer Woman. I’ve made these before (different recipe) and want to try her’s out. Although I don’t have lard – I’ll be subbing the lesser of it’s equals (don’t judge me) either crisco or butter. Coconut oil in tortilla’s is probably a bit much.
German Pancakes from Smitten Kitchen, I grew up with these but knew them as “bump” in our house – they were a treat and I still make them as such for our family. This recipe is a bit different than the one I have from my mom but I can’t wait to try this one and compare/contrast how it turns out. Yay!
So these are heavily carb-loaded bakery needs in my house, breads and breakfasts and whatnot, and I have a pancreas that doesn’t tolerate such foods. However as the head chef of this executive career of mine, my minons have pancreases that work just fine and I
work cook for them.
Also? I’ve decided (!!! Not proclaimed, decided.) that cooking/baking is a passion of mine and I will do it without guilt, remorse or calculation. I love food. I love manipulating ingredients and plants and spices into art on a plate. Or in a pot. Or, and most importantly, in my mouth.
And that, my friends, is what I need to do again. Fall in love with food. Because I have been very afraid of food for a good 15 years now and have abused it, hoarded it, snorted it and hated it – no more.
Let’s make bread and then break it. My hands and heart can do the work for the bellies in my house and my eyes can feast, my nose can taste the air. We’ll be ok, me and my pancreas. Me and myself. Me and this body I’m wearing out too fast.
We’re going to make it and I’m going to do it while loving food.