I had a friend in town this week and just when we were at the point in the conversation when we’d usually pick a place to meet for lunch, something terrible happened. Caught up in a moment where I forgot that I am me and not, say, Ina Garten, I suggested he come over and I’d
make lunch for us instead. I realized I’d lost my ever-loving mind. Sure, I’d
like to be the kind of person who makes “just lunch, nothing fancy!” for friends on a whim but I am not. I don’t really do “whim” cooking, as a website with nearly 918 intricately detailed recipes in its archives might evidence. Plus, I had so many recipes I was overdue to test out — a lemonade, a
salad, a tart and I’d been promising my son I’d make
chocolate pudding for weeks, not to mention the daily grind of breakfast,
lunchbox and dinner — that I felt like I had no time to cook anything extra.
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