‘Cause My Tooth’s Too Sugarlicious For Ya Babe

I really enjoy cooking. An embarrassingly large amount of my free time is spent scouring the internet for new recipes to test. I like doing so even now more because I have someone who is forever forced to be my taste tester since he decided to marry me. My recent experiments this past week have been rabbit slow cooked in apple cider with onions and raisins, and recipe for sweet potato feta muffins, both getting positive reviews from Mr. Isinvar. More often than not he really enjoys my cooking, leading me to the conclusion that I am a decent cook.

However, there is one comment that surprises me every time I hear it, “It’s too sweet.”  Too sweet? I live in the land famous for its chocolate and waffles that have sugar clumps in the dough. How can anything be too sweet?

The Vegetables Will Make You Sick

I love vegetables. I love meat more for the record, but I do love to munch on some crisp broccoli or a lightly tossed salad; for me a meal really isn’t complete without something green. Seriously, in another life I might have been the Witch from Into The Woods. So when I see that the mussels were on a bed of steam celery and onions, I am very pleased.

When people think of Belgian food,

Sitting in the Invisible Corner: A Restaurant Review

Taken after waiting for about 20 minutes for our plates to be cleared

This past saturday my husband and I celebrated the 8th Anniversary of our first in-person meeting, affectionately dubbed our “Milaniversary.” For those of you who don’t know, my husband and I first “met” on an online MUD, based on the Wheel of Time series in 2004. We became good friends and when I got the chance to go to Italy in 2005, he came and met me and my mother in Milan. We spent the whole day together, the three of us, sipping cokes in a piazza, visiting the Duomo, and finally getting in dinner at a Chinese restaurant.

I like celebrating the little things in life; in fact, I’ll take almost any excuse to go out and celebrate, even if it’s just going out for dinner.

Ambidextrous

I don’t really remember learning how to set a table properly, but I do have a vague memory of my mother’s voice telling me that knives and spoons go on the right side of the plate and forks go on the left. I am also not entirely sure how I know that you start with the outside cutlery and work your way in, though I am fairly certain that lesson was imparted by either Emily Gillmore or Barney Thompson. Other table manners I know but no longer remember learning over my twenty odd years of life include: