Drool and Diet

Why do I do this to myself?

I am absolutely addicted to looking a recipe websites. Totally addicted. I should enter a 12-step program to wean off the demon web, but frankly, what everyone else is whipping up and photographing for the eye candy of the world looks so much better than anything I have considered making for dinner tonight that it isn't even funny. I must look at one more page...just one more...

Like a junkie waiting on a fix, the page doesn't load quickly enough even though high speed is part of the name for the connection. Oddly enough, whatever the speed, it is never fast enough for junkies anyway.

I have to wonder why in this day and age of technological superiority we can't manage to have a 'CLICK HERE' button that would deliver the ingredients for the recipes you seek right to your door within 48 hours or less.

Meanwhile, you can tell yourself that the rice cake you are nibbling on to save room for the real food later on actually tastes like the yummy cheddar they promise so blatantly on the label right next to that smiling man in the old fashioned clothing.

The drool level rises as I look at page after page of food I will never get to sample. It isn't like I wouldn't LIKE to try it. But facts are facts. The kind people at the exotic grocers demand more than a smile in payment for the unusual ingredients that will be part of the meal.

So, my friend from Betty Crocker comes out of the shelf and with a few deft additions, the packaged mix resembles something a bit better than just a boxed dinner.

Admittedly, I am not the best cook in the world. While no one can ever honestly say they have starved at my table, I have a couple of friends who are SO much better at cooking than I am that it makes my mouth water just thinking about it. That, and I absolutely LOVE to see what the kitchen muse has inspired them to whip up for the Epicurean delights of others.

Years ago, I was told to never trust a chef who didn't eat their own food.

I believe that is a truth indeed. If those who prepare it are uncertain of the outcome, why on earth would I fling my delicate taste buds on the altar of culinary imperfection and just simply hope for the best????

No, my fine young feathered friends, I am a purist.

I believe that food should taste good and that the one who did the cooking KNOWS the food tastes good from on the ground experience with a supply of 'tasting spoons' at hand to make sure that no step is left out for that taste that leaves 'em drooling in the aisles.

Now, I am faced with the sad chore of deciding what to prepare for dinner.

I am beginning to wonder why we can't adopt the Pillsbury dough boy and a few of his shelf-mates as permanent family members. Maybe it's because my waist measurement is FINALLY going down. The evil influence of the various chefs in the world would certainly reverse that trend until I was roughly the size of the Queen Mary, which, if we are to face the truth, would be the closest I would ever come to being confused with royalty.

Maybe I should fire up the grill. It seems to be an easier choice on a nice fall night than standing by a stove and hoping for the best.