Culinary musings and adventures. The occasional recipe.
"Oh, I eat very little," you hear them say. Then you see them, with their plates piled high at a smorgabord and you know that most of them are liars.
I can eat whatever I want so long as I control the portions.
A crew-cut-topped, goateed man maybe in his late thirties. Pressed blue plaid shirt. Pressed everything, for that matter. His eyes popped out of his head like he was on speed.
I can't let go of eating chips and queso.
Just remember the rule for dips: thick brown good; clear bad, very very bad.
