in the place

I think I just want to talk about...food. For someone who--for the better part of my twenty five years, and along with the astounding majority of women everywhere--has been consumed with the idea of "those last few pounds", I think about food all the time. I watch Food Network when I work out, when I eat, and when I'm sitting on the couch making excuses why not to work out. I love Top Chef, Ruth Reichel, foodie blogs, cookbooks, Ina Garten, Cooking Light, and memoirs about how food influences life. I love reading about food, listening to people talk about food, making food of my own, and most all (which really goes without saying) eating food. Not that I'm particularly good at cooking, and I don't do it nearly as much as a married woman should, but once I am standing in my kitchen with my good knives, listening to Afro Cuban Jazz Project (thanks, Kate), with the bounty from my latest trip to Central Market laid out in front of me (oh, Central Market), it doesn't matter the weather or the type of day I've had or the drama I've encountered. Cooking is methodical and challenging and rewarding. Notice, I said "cooking," not "baking." I don't have the type of brain it takes to bake. I'll leave that to Haylie and Anna.

During a particularly grueling day at work this past week, my friend Violet said that on days like this particular one, she wishes she was a gardener. For her, having her hands covered in dirt instead of who-knows-what-in-the-ER sounded like a peaceful, relaxing profession. I, on the other hand, would cook and take pictures of food. How much fun would that be? Get paid to make delicious food look delicious. I highly doubt that a head of cauliflower is going to come in tweaking on meth or with foreign objects stuck up where the don't belong. Only on the most terrible days do I fantasize about my chosen backup profession, but in my alternate universe, I hope Violet is the one growing the tomatoes I get up close and personal with.

Here are a couple of dinners I've made over the past few weeks:

Tomatoes, Mozzarella, and Prosciutto with Honey-Lemon Dressing

Coconut Curry Shrimp with Sugar Snap Peas

And then there's the act of going out to eat. I read somewhere that Austinines spend more money eating out than any other city in the country. At first, I scoffed at this idea. And then I realized that it isn't so far-fetched after all. Although I am chronically indecisive, I love finally deciding on a restaurant, scrolling through a menu, and having someone else whip me up something wonderful that I wouldn't cook at home. Half the time, Jimmy and I just go out to eat for the fellowship. What better than food to bring people together?

Red's Porch Date with Miss Chelsea

Jack Allen's with the Normans

Happy Hour Oysters

Guess which one is mine -- I'll give you a hint, it's got rainbow sprinkles, gummi bears, health bar, strawberries, cheesecake bites, and peanut butter cups on it! Yeah, that's right. FatKid. Right here.

And then there were...

THE RIBS.

My dad bought a fancy schmancy new grill, and since has become something of a grill master. He pours over Cooking Illustrated and grilling books, searching for the perfect combination of rub, mop, and sauce. And when Jimmy and I headed to Dallas last month, he spent all day Friday working on what were to become the most delicious, succulent, porkiest ribs I've ever tasted.

So we begin with a little rub...

...and a little love

The great Daddoo, Grill Master Extraordinaire

The setup

Droooooooool

The final cut, try to contain yourself.

I would post a picture of me enjoying these amazing ribs, but we were all too involved with the actual eating to be bothered by picture-taking. That, and nobody touches Lucius (my camera, and current proof that I still enjoy naming inanimate objects) with sticky rib-sauce-fingers. Nobody.

So, if all else fails and my nursing profession goes up in flames, at least I know my dad and I will be able to use those flames to grill up something delicious.