I am obsessed. Totally and completely obsessed.
I can’t stop watching Food Network and the Cooking Channel. I’m besotted by Jamie at Home and The Barefoot Contessa. I’ve ordered 3 new cookbooks in the last week and am trying my best not to order 3 more on my wish list.
Those of you who know me well will find none of this unusual. You know I love to cook. I read cookbooks like they are novels. But here’s the thing. I can’t taste any of it! Everything I put in my mouth these days taste like lard. Or what I suppose lard would taste like. And the texture of everything is thrown way off, too. It’s the weirdest thing.
JD thinks I’m torturing myself surrounding myself with all these images and promises of food that I can’t really enjoy myself. But I don’t find that to be the case.
I still love seeing if I can replicate a great recipe and I still love gathering people around my table to feed them and see if I can get them to ooh and ahh a little bit. Even if that means that I have to get someone else to check the seasoning in the stew tell me if these chocolate chip cookies really are the best in the world. (Oh yes, they are.)
I’ll be able to taste again soon enough. Until then, a girl can’t let herself get rusty, now can she?
These post chemo days have been much better than the last round. Thank you for your continued prayers. One more to go! Kinda….