factoid about scotto –
I like to cook. I really enjoy making a tasty, filling meal… but not for myself. I like eating big yummy meals, but can’t be bothered if I’m preparing it solo… mac and cheese or a tasty sammich will do the trick, and takes less prep and cleanup time. I wonder if that means I don’t like cooking, so much as it means that I like to cook for other folks…does that mean I’m a show off, and not a chef? Some kind of low self-esteem? Maybe (and I suspect that this is the true reason) I get more pleasure from pleasing others than from pleasing myself in the same way. It doesn’t have to be romantic…I’m happy feeding my buddy Dan (or making Newtie treats) as well as preparing my sweetheart a lovely candlelight dindin. The odd thing is, until I had this apartment I couldn’t possibly do so… I actually dreamed of cooking for my sweetie last night, lasagna, salad, and low light, with all the romantic trappings.
yum.
What’s for lunch?
