word fog

yes, this is how i think.

What I see:

“Peanut Butter from Unbalanced Peanuts”

What a normal person sees:

I guess I like my nuts a bit crazy.


Spring cleaning. Yes, its that time.

This coming Wednesday marks the start of my all-time favorite holiday, Passover.  For some people, this makes little sense.  There are no presents, no time off from work, no crazy decorations—and, just to be a downer, even more restrictions about what you can and cannot do.

These people have obviously never celebrated at my house.

This annual holiday, when done right, has little competition.  For starters, and to be a bit sentimental, the Seders, which are the heart of the holiday, are dinners where everyone comes together to basically just celebrate life.  Freedom, comforts, family—the penultimate communal gathering.  On top of it, everyone is required to down (religiously) a minimum of 4 glasses of wine.  And thats just during the readings.  Okay, so its a little hard to make a dessert using matzoh meal, but my soon-to-be-famous raspberry gratins (thanks Contessa) will soon make up for that.  And I’m sorry, but charoset is just as good for my sweet tooth, if not better.  Satisfies all of my apple cinnamon cravings, and you get to eat it before the meal.

Passover also kicks off with a big clean.  I mean a BIG clean.  This makes my roommate (who is not Jewish) extremely happy (since I do have some cleaning issues.  Who likes to dust or take out the garbage? Not it.)  So this weekend, after we work through our Friday and Saturday night hangovers, will be one of the rare occasions that I get out the rags, throw my hair up in a bandana, and get down to business.  The floors are the worst.  But it will be done.

And then, I get to spend two whole days cooking, which is all I ever actually want to be doing.  We have to do a mostly vegetarian meal, thanks to my college roommates, with whom I started this tradition (year 5 and going strong!!) and so tomorrow I am hitting the greenmarket and going for broke.  Then you’ll find me (happily) slaving over a hot stove, covered in sauce, with a towel over one shoulder, a spoon in my right hand and a glass of wine in my left.

Seriously, and you think Christmas stands a chance against this?  Maybe Thanksgiving.