If you were wondering why you might be sweating or looking for a second breakfast so you don’t have to leave the table, it’s because January is a first day of the rest of your life.
The nerves can do a number.
Which is why I hold on to the eighties like a baby holds onto it’s mother’s neck. I wear my hair long, my jeans skinny, and listen to music that I would never admit to.
I ate a whole lot of candy in the eighties, but candy doesn’t fly when it’s lunchtime and you’re the cook.
Today at work: lentils w/a Tuscan soffritto, seared scallops the size of a large sand dollar, w/ fried sage, garlic and butter, marinated chicken w/ thyme, parsley, shallot, lemon zest and dijon,
spinach w/ wild mushrooms, a salad of arugula leaves, zucchini slabs as skinny as I could cut them, tiny dice of raw shallot, toasted pignoli and golden raisins with olive oil and lemon, and because there were loads of blueberries left over from breakfast, blueberry crumble w/ a side of fresh cream.
What the cook ate: mini Krackel bars and diet 7 up.