I really didn’t want to do anything today.
So I made pancakes for breakfast, fed my sourdough starter, made gai laan and pressed tofu with mushrooms for dinner, and started my latest attempt to bake a nice challah. But since I don’t intend to turn this into a cooking blog (which seems to be happening anyway), I didn’t take any pictures.
Oh, and somehow along there, I tweaked the story I’m working on.
When I look back on the day, I reassure myself that cooking is important and useful, but I feel embarrassed about how much interest I take in food. I mean, if I’m asked to travel somewhere, the first thing I want to know is where to eat. After all, if I can find just one great restaurant, that makes for a great trip. Even better if I can lure in some friends who also haven’t eaten there, and we can discover it together.
Right now, though, I’m just dreaming of the perfect challah. And the perfect sourdough. And maybe a pie. So if the current obsession works out, there will be baked goods to share.
Writing Every Day 