I made BBQ chicken last night, using my homemade recipe for sauce. Exene was lurking about in the kitchen while I was making it, and I could see her eyes scanning the ingredients (I didn't have them all out, since she was there). I said "Get out of here! You're not going to divine my recipe!" and she said "Your secret sauce. What's the secret?" and I said "I am. I make it great. I'm taking that with me." and she said "It's the cider-to-ketchup ratio. Has to be." [Note: It's NOT that, although she said that twice at different times.] and I said "I'm not telling." and got her out of the kitchen, so I could make the stuff in peace, free from prying eyes. It drives her bananas that I won't tell her the recipe for my sauce. She commented on it several times, trying to suss it out, but I refuse to tell. It really is a superlative sauce, although it's my culinary instincts that really anchor it -- not like I'm superchef, mind you, but I can definitely cook, and I enjoy it, frankly. Cooking's fun for me. I'd never do it professionally -- that would suck the fun right out of it! But in the home, I love it.
I did call B2 in to watch, as he LOVES to watch me cook, wants to join in, and I had him as my little helper. He loves anything with cooking, and I like for him to see his Daddy cooking, so he'll pick up on that. He makes a point to smell every ingredient (he's always been a sniffer like that -- it's very cute, that little freckled nose of his, sniffing foods and flowers). He even likes to make his own stuff -- I'll give him some pretend ingredients, like sugar cubes and flour and water so he can "cook," as well. It makes me smile. My little Epicurean-in-training!
I made B1 a nice grilled cheese sandwich, which he wolfed down. I always use some extra-virgin olive oil for my grilled cheese sandwiches, not butter, when I'm frying them. Makes'em extra-yummy.
I've got another cold -- chest cold. That's what was screwing with me the other night, sleepwise. Stupid cold season. Blech. Disease is like the Internet before the Internet -- we're all networked through the air we breathe. Thanks, whoever gave me that cold. Message received! "You've got Mail!" *koff koff koff*
