It all started at Costco where I had stopped to buy some lamb chops for dinner (ok. If you are going to be picky, I guess it really started when I asked Len what he wanted for Shabbat dinner and he said lamb chops). Costco is a great place to buy meat and fish; you can get great fresh stuff at a fraction of the price you would find it at other places. Now, I know buying it at Costco isn't the most locavore way to go and the meat was probably not raised in the most organic way possible, but this post is all about being bad, isn't it?
Ok, so where was I? Right, buying lamb at Costco. So there I am at Costco and while I had the best of intentions of getting in and getting out, the foot traffic was so busy in the main aisles, I was forced to cut through the book section. Sigh.... The only thing I love more than reading books is shopping for books. I love reading the back, flipping through picture books and cook books, and imagining all the different scenarios I would find myself using these new books; I think this escape may even as good as the escape I get when I actually do read the book. And as I ran my fingers over all these books, resisting the urge to buy them all, I found one I couldn't resist: the new hardcover by Steve Martin, An Object of Beauty: A Novel. Every review of I have read has been amazing and I loved Shopgirl, which this book has been compared to. I told myself that I would only buy it if it was the first printing of the first edition. And it was! I had no choice. It was besheret (jewish for meant to be). As I walked away, I felt a little bit of a high, knowing that I had one more first edition hardcover for my collection (oh, did I forget to tell you that I collect first edition contemporary fiction? I used to have a massive collection but lost it all in the great power failure of 2003...but that's another story). I then realized that shopping for books is my vice; its my thing when I am stressed. And then I got a little nervous: is this a bad thing? Am I addicted? Maybe. But if this is the worst thing I am ever addicted to, I will consider myself lucky.
PS. Besides the book, I did buy the lamb. And it was deeeelish! I prepared it using Mark Bittman's recipe for lamb persillade that I adapted for the chops.
|Billy's yet-to-be named chocolate|
Ok. So not so bad? What about this? My son decided to expand his culinary skills and attempt a complex dessert from the Magnolia Bakery Cookbook, Caramel Peanut Butter brownies with a graham cracker crust. This was a quite a process and consisted of no less than four layers, including one where he had to make his own caramel. Things were going great, and almost three sticks of butter and 2 hours later, the brownies were in the oven. It was not until I had almost finished cleaning up (and they had almost finished baking) that we realized that he forgot to add the flour! The resulting dessert was not a brownie, but it was completely delicious, and decadent, and bad (not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning good)! The only problem is, we don't know what to call it. Anyone wanna offer a suggestions?
So to sum up my good/bad day, not only did I eat the most decadent dessert ever, I didn't even run since I used my allotted running time to shop for books. Maybe I deserved to be punished...