Wednesday, March 01, 2006


Compliments from teenage boys to their mother are rare events and usually masked with sarcasm. So, I was taken aback by the conversation with Chowhound tonight.

Chowhound peering over my shoulder looking at the rice dish I was cooking. "That looks like you went bluuuuuegh". The line was complete with perfect theatrical embellishment. My drama king.

Me: "Gee, thanks"

Chowhound: "I like the way you cook. It's different."

I raise my eyebrows inquisitively. He continues, "You don't cook like most people. You don't use a cookbook or anything. You just throw stuff together. And most of the time it turns out good."

His name is Chowhound. He eats everything. I'm not rushing to Betty Crocker with my recipes.