Anyone who has met more than 5 time will undoubtoudly surmise that I am not particularly feminine. I don't wear makeup often, no jewelry, skirts are unlikely. I burp shamelessly, and I only shave up to my knees. I am no master of the feminine arts. I can mess up toast. I allow gravy to boil over. I add a tablespoon instead of a teaspoon. I could go on.
That's supposed to be fruit salad.
This Christmas I am at my sister's house. Since she works hard all week I decided that I would help by making some food for our holiday dinner. And damn did I deliver!
This pastry-wrapped brie ball took literally minutes to make!
I dug deep within myself and summoned up all the repressed knowledge gained from those lazy hours watching the food network. Somehow I made some halfway decent sides to go along with my brother-in-law's superb prime rib.
Yes pigs-in-blanket take ten minutes to make, yes ranch baked oyster crackers aren't souffles.Yes my carrots were a bit burned on the bottom and my greens a little wilted but all in all it was a unbutton-the-top-button-of-your-jeans rip-roaring good time.
Maybe I summoned the power of baby Jesus. I sure hope father time helps me pull off a new year's feast.