Monday, March 28, 2011

BLOOD, BONES, AND BUTTER

I adore the title of this memoir. It reminds me of a time in my life when I cooked for a living. Why do these brilliant people keep stealing the thoughts right out of my head?


By the way, cooking is dirty, backbreaking, hot, dangerous, repetitive, and allows no time for sleep. Just shoot me if you hear me talking about opening a restaurant.

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