While working on one such project last week, I had the sudden urge to bake butter biscuits. Not one to dismiss such an impulse, I immediately dropped what I was doing and made some. And then I thought... hm. What if I kept track of what I ate this winter? Not like one of those creepy food diaries, but more of an interactive-multimedia-cookbook. I'm not sure if anyone will read this besides my mother and perhaps Rebecca or Emily or Chelsea, but if it were only for those few people and myself I would do it.
Let's face it. I love to cook. Mostly because I love to eat. But I only like to eat good food (and who doesn't). And I think there might be some really interesting things that happen in the world of food in Essex come January. When the roads have two feet of blowing snow and I must resort to the random supplies that The Halfway House (no, not that kind of halfway house, it's a cafe down the road) can provide me with. I'm excited. There might even be some tales of other meals or happenings. And I would love it if others would provide as well. Good and bad, palate-pleasing/cleansing/horrifying. I want to hear it.