Just to be clear: I don't cook. I don't cook well. I don't cook inspired. I don't enjoy cooking and I don't enjoy the clean up that follows cooking. I don't like to shop, therefore I don't like to shop for groceries. If I were wicked wealthy I'd hire a cook before I'd hire a housekeeper.
That said, I love to eat. I watch Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, Good Eats, and Ace of Cakes because they have more to do with eating than with food preparation.
It's a rock and a hard place--I'm lazy in the kitchen, so I'm prone to peanut butter sandwiches, crackers and yogurt before I'll whip up something delicious. I'll starve my taste buds out of laziness. Making something to eat is such a chore that eating becomes a chore.
But last night?
Last night I overcame and served up a wonderful meal. We had friends over for fireworks, swimming and grilling--Mr. D prepared a pork tenderloin that tasted moist and smokey and ... actually, Mr. D cooked the meat, so let's give him credit there. I contributed my Famous Cornbread (sweet and a little crisp on top, buttery and warm), fruit salad (yeah, the fruit does all the work, I can take no credit--but the tartness of the grapes perfectly balanced the sweetness of the blueberries), green salad (again, the veg does all the work, I only chop and slice, but the salad was crisp and light and crunchy) and Berry Berry Pie with raspberries straight out of the patch.
I ate seconds of everything except the pie. Before I sound too virtuous, you should know that I wanted to drink another Fat Squirrel Ale and there wasn't room for both.
It's not often that every single thing on the table tastes fantastic. Usually one or two dishes stand out, the rest are passable. Last night was one for the books.
The fireworks were pretty good, too.
Oh, go vote for my poetry here. (Sheesh, I feel ashamed asking people to vote--now it'll be about how popular I am, not how great my appliance poetry is...)