I haven't posted in a long time. I've been sick. And being sick sucks. I missed a week of work - unheard of in my history. I watched more tv shows and movies than I have in ages. I got sick of soup and even of my couch - which is also unheard of. So after a week of 100+ degree temperature and more fluids and rest than I really wanted, I got sad.
So what did I do? I made food. Cause apparently that's my cure all. Then Paul and I had a small argument. He wanted a pie, but I didn't have anything to put in the pie until the next day when we went grocery shopping. So I wanted to make something - cookies. Paul didn't want cookies AND a pie, because he believes I have a plan to make him fat, which is ridiculous. I had a plan to make me happy...which involves baking, the end result of which is food that's high in calories in the house, but no one FORCES anyone to eat it. Anyway, we ended up settling on me making cookies, but only baking one pan and freezing the rest. The next day I made an apple pie (very pretty by the way) along with a pauper's version of boeuf bourguignon which was amazingly rich and beautifully yummy.
And then over that weekend I made a massive amount of ginger cookies with boozed up icing. And a seven layer bar treat. It was his birthday on Tuesday, so then I baked a flourless chocolate cake with blueberry topping. And since I had some leftover pie crust from the apple pie, I made another pie.
This is my public announcement I have an addiction. When I'm sad and not feeling well, I bake. And I can't stop. I don't necessarily eat the baked goods, but I must bake to make the house smell yummy and nice and comforting. Plus it makes my friends happy, which makes me happy. This is my coming out statement. I'm a baking addict. I hope you all still love me. And if you're in the Seattle area, please come by and help me and Paul eat it all. Thank you.