I find myself in a strange position. I write about food, I read about food, I talk about food, I watch TV shows and movies about food, and often (really often) I give other people suggestions about what they should cook or eat. I recommend restaurants here and in other cities, I e-mail favorite recipes, and I hold the hands of nervous cookers who aren’t quite sure they can really make Hollandaise or bake bread. Today, I am stumped.
Tomorrow is my birthday, and for a variety of reasons there will be no real “birthday dinner.” Rob is in New Orleans at a convention and won’t be home until late at night, so he will not be here to take me anywhere, and although my parents are around, they are going to wait and take me out the night after my birthday so that Rob can join us. There is, of course, a part of me (the part that still believes in Birthday Magic) that finds it grossly unfair that nothing will happen on my actual birthday because Rob is “stuck” in The Big Easy eating jambalaya and Po Boys. That inner child believes that someone, somewhere should sweep in with a wad of cash, a bottle of champagne and a beautifully wrapped gift and say “the world was just bluffing, Annie; we have something wonderful planned for you!” The part of me that is almost 47, and has been around the block knows that mostly I need to get over it.
Still, I would at least like to cook something nice for myself. Well, and for Sam, who will be with me. I just can’t think of anything that I really want to eat. I cannot spend the day cooking myself something Chef-prep, multi-step and complicated because there is Church, Sam has to go to a birthday party, and there is March Madness to be watched. I am thinking I want something luxurious, and delicious, maybe even sinful, that isn’t too complicated and (and this is a big issue) will be eaten by a twelve year old boy who doesn’t eat seafood. (Of course, if the suggestion lights my fire, he can have a grilled cheese sandwich. I’m really fine with that).
Readers, if you’re out there, take a minute from your busy day and tell me what I should eat. Send me a recipe, a suggestion, a link…knowing that someone out there cares about my culinary happiness (SNIFF) will please the Birthday Magic child within, and help the seasoned adult part of me to fix her something that will make her feel less like the Little Match Girl.