innocent

It started out so innocently.
First, there was a package of cheap steaks in my fridge. Cheap because, well, we're on a budget. Steak because, well, it's steak. And they were calling my name. So I pulled them out to rest on my counter while I figured out what to do with them. Then, a memory. Late at night. Good Eats. Alton Brown. Steak au Poivre. It was decided.
But what more? It needed a sauce sans Cognac. Then, another memory. Flipping obsessively through Barefoot Contessa's Party cookbook. Blue cheese (always in the fridge chez nous). Gorgonzola Sauce.
My oh my. I can't stop there. Potatoes. Garlic. Parsley. I had to do it. Garlic Roasted Potatoes.
Green. Green. Something green. Arugula. Walnuts. Cranberries. A teensy bit more blue cheese. Balsamic and Olive oil. It was done. I couldn't take it back.
Glen dropped by, so I forced him to have a seat with us.
We all were unprepared.
For the magic.

I hereby promise to stop blogging about food. And soon. But right now I can't stop. I am obsessed. I am hooked.
I need help.