We worked hard this weekend. Unpacking (yes, still), decorating, cleaning, painting. One day it will end and we'll sit back and soak in a completed apartment, but until then we'll work hard and reward ourselves with good grub. Like the bouillabaisse I made last night. I could get used to this pattern.
I was a fishmonger in my past life or maybe I grew artichokes. I'm convinced. It explains my present life's fascination with all things food. I cook like it's my job. I eat as if every meal's my last. I've never been one for cooking contests (I leave that to my champion grandparents and Mom) nor eating competitions (damn that overactive gag reflex). I don't have food critic envy nor do I aspire to chefdom. What I have is clinical. Diagnosis: An all-consuming obsession with consumption. Prescription: Know full well.
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