My title sounds like a dreary movie you get hooked into, which has the lofty aspiration of attempting to teach you a moral lesson you don’t really want to learn. Don’t run away. No lessons. I’m referring to a winter time, when you are humming the now controversial song, Baby It’s Cold Outside.
I live in the Pacific NW. Sure we have winter. It freezes. We get a little snow. It’s all good. This January was particularly warm. So warm I was outside planting pansies, starter pots of emerging miniature daffodils and primroses. Then IT happened—-Four ITS to be exact—back to back. Snow Storms. Now it’s time to hum the theme from Jaws. We had accumulations of 10 to 24 inches. I know. I know. A chunk of you out there in many parts of the country are rolling your eyes and calling me a Snow Wimp. In my defense both people and the towns are unprepared mentally and physically for this type of weather calamity. Bottom line I was stranded—-yes stranded—in my house for 5 days. My street doesn’t get plowed and my snow driving technique is dang scary to me, let alone the other drivers on the road. During the time of being cut off—–okay that borders on a scene from a soap, but I was feeling a tad like a drama queen—my cravings for comfort food raged every time I looked out the window and saw the cold white snow.
Since I had the intention to fit through my door once the snow melted, I manufactured a twisted type of satisfaction by looking through recipes from some of my favorite bloggers. My fantasies of preparing and then devouring every spoonful and every crumb were elaborate and rich with details. Here are some of my favorites.