...a way of seeing beyond inner and outer.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


When You Eat at the Refrigerator, Pull Up a Chair is a hilarious book.  If food is your coping mechanism, read it.  Sit in one of those chain books stores nursing an empty coffee cup for an entire day if you have to, but read it.  It sums up everything I am now convinced about myself, my love hate, and more hate relationship with food, my body, and my personalities.  Yes. I have several and if you tell the truth, so do you, but I’m growing more choosey about which one is driving the bus, or at the very least, driving my palate.  
Last night, I baked {X cookies} which was supposed to be replaced with an actual number but by the time I was finished, I was too tired to go back and count.   Every one of them left the house to fatten up my husbands clients and if they’re lucky, a few of his work mates. Better them than me. Now, it could be bragging to call them lucky, but a girl can make her some cookies, people, and I have witnesses. 
1)       J was asked not to bring any cookies until Tuesday because Y, a man with a corporate checkbook,  had to be out of town and didn’t want to miss them. I only mention this because I hadn’t offered to send any cookies to Y, but he writes very large checks, so I was pretty much thinking J would wait until Tuesday and I would spend Monday night baking. 
2)      Last Friday night I was at a party given by the owner of the company that pays J to be a genius when a young man I’d never met walked up to me and made puppy dog eyes at me. It’s not what you’re thinking. He wanted baked goods.
3)      Both my sister and my mother asked me not to send them any because they were trying to be good.
4)       My dad, and people, if you knew my dad you know this is all it would have taken to prove my point, said, “Those are the best cookies I’ve ever eaten in my life.”   He wanted me to market them. I told him to find me the capital.   
You see my point and know why it’s such a big deal to make sure I know who’s making my food choices.  I know how to make my own drugs.
a.      2 trays of Nutella brownies glazed with Ganache
b.      2 trays of German chocolate brownies
c.      Countless Almond Toffee cookies
d.      A couple dozen walnut Wedding cookies
e.      Chocolate Chip cookies that didn’t become cookies until the next morning.  I was done even if they weren’t.

This is just a portion of what walked out the door because there reaches a point where you don't so much care about getting the all encompassing "shot" as you do about going to bed. I didn’t eat one.  Didn’t even lick a beater.  I sipped iced coffee listened to Tito Puente while I baked and today after work, I’m going to get a manicure, because it's going to take specialist to remove the sugar and butter that's welded itself under my nails.


  1. It is hard for me to understand how a girl could bake and not lick. You are truly remarkable.

  2. Less remarkable than unwilling to stop at one lick, so I just decided not to start. It's like window shopping at the shoe store when all that tax money is sitting in your bank account.

  3. Dadnabbit, my stomach's growling! I had to look at the wall in your photo so I wouldn't be tempeted. Nice plates! Love you!

  4. Market them--- you might become the next Famous Amos!!! Hubby used to buy cookies at his shop in Hollywood. but if you become successful like Amos don't sell the company--- Amos' cookies aren't very good anymore.

    That book sounds funny-- would it be a good one for Mrs. BG?

  5. I might if the universe makes it apparent that it's a peaceful way to monetary muchness, and totally agree about the Famous Amos thing.

    Yes, I was thinking I would do that one next but I was concerned that it had too narrow of an appeal. I still might.

  6. It is up to you but don't be too concerned about the appeal being too narrow--- the blog is ultimately for us so we can gush/rant/rave about books that affect us. We can always chat amongst ourselves if others aren't interested in a particular post. People who aren't bookworms or readers of the blog might stumble across the post in a search for the book even months later.

    And don't be concerned if a post doesn't get many comments. DeLynne was concerned the other day that reviewish posts don't get as many comments as musing posts--- it can be a let down when a post doesn't get many comments-- especially when it is a great post--- but people are still reading and it doesn't mean a limited appeal-- they just don't always comment. I don't comment on every post I read either.


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