Change of plans

Well it seems everyone has their panties in a bunch with excitement over this thing, which is good because I am weak-spirited and completely susceptible to flattery.

One of said underpant-knotters, who may or may not be one of my writing partners (in other endeavors; this one is solo, I assure you) has just given me an earful about how I clearly need to make the recipes that I know I will not like because otherwise I will be completely boring. Or something like that. And being of the aforementioned weak-spirit, I am quickly caving.

So intead of soon getting to read about the gorgonzola walnut tart from cousin Carole that I was going to attempt, I am going to make the goddamn ponzi bread or stuffed grape leaves (I can't remember which is actually next in the book), neither of which I expect to like, and insult either my mother-in-law and/or Josh's former coworkers in the process.

Luckily for me, my mother-in-law is a completely wonderful person who will not take it personally that I do not enjoy olives and will be going on for paragraphs about how I had to have my stomach pumped after eating them or whatever happens. I am not just saying that because she reads this, either. Really.

As a side note: amongst other things I have now learned about the meatballs are that when I made them once during college evidently I got the grape jelly on the ceiling. that sounds completely reasonable.

Allow me to urge you to feel free to post some of said comments on this very blog, should you wish for others in addition to me to get to enjoy stories of me spackling unsuspecting parts of the house with inappropriate food products and the like. We wouldn't want to deprive the world of that image. I'm pretty sure I was neither drunk, nor high at the time, either.