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Culinary Confessions

I always eat the first (ugly) pancake while standing at the stove making the rest of the batch.

I rarely sift my dry ingredients.

I scoop my flour directly out of the bag even though I know I'm supposed to spoon it into the measuring cup.

My refrigerator door is overflowing with jars of jams, and condiments.

I go through about a dozen eggs per week.

I rarely chop onions. I usually buy them already chopped.

I still have an unopened bottle of Limoncello that I bought in Naples in 2005.

I love Greek yogurt but only the kind that comes with honey.

I HATE any type of fruit in my yogurt but I will eat plain or vanilla yogurt and dip my fruit in it.

I like my steak rare, rare, rare. But also love the crunchy ends of the prime rib roast.

I don’t get the big deal over red velvet cake.

I will sometimes eat capers right out of the jar.

Sometimes I will eat a bite of the raw hamburger before I brown it.

I drink close to a gallon of water a day.

I don't eat meat on the bone.

I don’t always wash my berries before eating them, unless I’m serving them to someone else.

I want the wait-person to clear my dishes as soon as I push them aside and almost always pre-bus the table because I can’t stand having the food in front of me when I am done eating.

I almost never get the number of cookies out of a batch of dough that the recipe says it makes.

I use the phrase “I can make that” at least once a day in reference to something edible seen on television, a magazine, a menu, or a store.

And then I usually do make it.

I love mayonnaise. Especially with, on, and in eggs.

The thought of eating Cadbury crème eggs makes me gag.

I hate licorice.

Prosecco makes me dizzy-happy.

I only like duck in pate form.

I love to offer people my home baked treats and then tell them that they were made with splenda.

I go to the grocery store every couple days.

I prefer grocery shopping to all other kinds of shopping, and when I’m sad or feeling a bit down, I find walking into a grocery store is the quickest way to make myself feel better.

I love veal, pork without guilt.

I love butter. And salt. And garlic.

I do like canned frosting.

Anytime I eat out I can’t help but think about how I’d recreate the recipe at home, certain that my version would be better.

I think that pine nuts, when eaten on their own, have a flavor very similar to smoky bacon or prosciutto.

I crave a bologna sandwich every now and then.

I peak in the oven several times while baking. It’s yet to cause a disaster.

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