Have you ever cooked yourself a tasty meal, sat down to eat it, and hesitated just for a moment? Not because you're a little iffy on whether that chicken reached an internal temperature of 72ºC/162ºF, but because what's sitting on your plate is so appealing that you feel it'd be a shame to eat it? If so, dear reader, you and I will get along juuust fine.
In my meager twenty-something years on this planet, I've learned that there's a certain sect of humankind that views food as merely sustenance, something to fuel activities more important than the preparation of that food. I am not one of these people.
If you've read my profile (look to your right!), you have a pretty quick glimpse of what I am. The whole inspiration for starting this blog came to me this past weekend. There I was, lounging around in bed on a Saturday morning, reading one of my favourite mystery/romance authors. Of course, after awhile, my stomach reminds me it's time to break the ol' fast (does anyone ever think of the etymology of the word "breakfast" besides me anymore?) I was sorely tempted to just drag a bag of sea salt and vinegar potato chips into bed with me and continue my literary exploits... but I stopped.
Didn't I deserve a delicious breakfast in bed? I'd had a long week of seeing patients and dogsitting for a friend. Just because my significant other (whom I shall call Hubs, as an homage to my favourite, sadly retired, food blogger Nemmie) was not around to bring me said breakfast, didn't mean I didn't deserve to treat myself. And heck, I enjoy the sheer pleasure of food preparation more than he does, I strongly suspect.
The breakfast I arranged for myself, leisurely munched while snuggled under the covers with my cats, looked so pretty arranged on the tray that I had to take a picture of it. I felt proud of my efforts at self-indulgence, and wanted some sort of proof of "what I did this weekend", a frequent question from friends and family back home. This sparked the amusing (crazy?) idea of preparing delish dishes all for myself, all weekend, and arranging, photographing, and eating them in different areas of my sweet new apartment in the 'Peg. Hence, the name of the blog.
In all honesty, I probably won't post every meal from every weekend. Part of being in a new city at a new job means getting out and meeting people, right? However, if my coworkers' reactions to my lunches (aka leftovers) are any indication, I suspect that my self-directed gastronomical efforts deserve to be showcased somewhat. So, thanks for stopping by. I welcome any constructive criticism or comments... it's nice to know when people care!
Looking forward to my new food adventure,