You know, most nights I make a good, healthy, well-balanced dinner. Especially when I’m in the midst of trying to get the baby-who-is-now-a-toddler to experience a wide range of tastes and textures in the hope that she will not be a picky eater like her father.
Now, I can make all kinds of excuses and explanations and discuss the guilt vs. treat decision. I could talk about disordered eating and bad food choices and weight management and not bingeing and the love-hate relationship I have with all food. I could remind you that the baby wasn’t eating with me as I am working late and she is home with Daddy, have a well-balanced, well-thought out meal. I might mention how poor food planning, meetings back to back to back and spoiled ranch dressing led to this. But I won’t. Instead I will simply tell you this.
It was good.
I will also give you a sneak peek at two things about which I will be posting soon. One is a kitchen fail-turned success:
The other, a yummy dessert that was an improvisation on a recipe from a book lent to me by my wonderful friend K, who deserves a post all her own:
Soon, I promise. Let me get through today and tomorrow (which by the way is my adopted brother T’s birthday and he’ll be coming over for birthday dinner and believe you me, that’s a post and a half!) and then this weekend we’ll have time for a nice long chat, all cozied up with some tea and biscuits. I promise. Maybe.
Or perhaps I’ll just be making more milkshakes for dinner.