1:25 (An attempt to define me.)

The Love of Butter.

Ok, maybe it’s not "butter" that defines me, but my love of food might. Ever since I was little, food’s been a big deal in my family. Specifically comfort foods.

Things I remember from childhood?

Chicken pot pie, coopers cheese or chicken broth noodles at my Meemaw’s. Mashed potatoes (with milk and butter). Cinnamon, Sugar and Butter toast. Macaroni with cheese.

Oh, mac and cheese. You are so gourmet with hot dogs cut up inside.

Then there is the filet mignon I always ordered during my Peepaw’s Christmas parties. (I suppose I ate other things too, but I remember this most fondly.) Oh, delicious steak. Cooked to medium doneness… just enough to be a little bloody. I never liked the weird apple garnishes though.

(And some day I will learn to love martinis… I SWEAR TO IT, PEEPAW, OK?)

My mom made a lot of typical working-mom meals that stemmed from a box. This is probably why the cement-esque instant mashed potatoes and the kraft macaroni and cheese are my perfect stress foods. I always made fun of her shake and bake… until I made it recently. It’s pretty darn tasty. And sitting down together as a family is something that doesn’t happen often enough anymore. It gives everyone a chance to just be together… chowing down.

Now I want to make my own food. It’s kind of nice to know exactly what’s going into your food. Fresh bread is probably the best thing ever. No preservatives — just water, oil, flour, yeast and sugar. Cookies. OH COOKIES! They’re usually so simple and you cannot possibly frown at a cookie. Or a cupcake. Or a cheesecake. Fast meals are my favorite, but sometimes things are worth waiting for.

Maybe I have issues with food. But yes, butter. Warm, gooey, gooky butter.

Butter fixes everything.

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