I suck.

I don’t know how else to say it. I want to post more. I have every intention of posting more. But those days of sitting in bed with a glass of red and all the time in the world have been so, so rare lately.

I think about you guys all the time. I come to read the comments, which are sparse now to say the least. The hits are down. I’m sad. And I don’t even get profit off this site so what do I care….well I care!! I like people coming here and saying they tried something and loved it! And now I have failed you…

I HAVE been cooking, too. Not as much as I’d love to be. It’s just the blogging part that has been difficult.

All these flights are spent reading cooking magazines, dog-earing corners for future use. I say, “oh they will LOVE this” when I see a recipe that makes me think of you guys because we are best friends and all. I’ve done alllllll these fun nights like “Watch What Happens Live” or hosting the E! post Oscar show or the chaos that is a week in Vegas for Sports Illustrated. But you know what is on my mind??? The food I get to have after all the bullcrap and hoopla. It’s all so much fun but at the end of the day, my thoughts go back to food. It’s like your friend who had some shithead boyfriend then she finally got a new, cool boyfriend but she sits up at night thinking of the asshole. Or is that just me. No it’s totally not me. I definitely am not sitting up at night thinking about assholes. Ew that’s gross. And food isn’t the asshole here. It’s the good boyfriend. So this analogy is just terrible I’m sorry anyhow…

I was in LA and here’s how the story ALWAYS goes…

John goes to the gym with his trainer, Malcolm. He comes home and I ask, “what are we doing for dinner tonight?” 90% of the time, John says he will be working. I yell, “MALLLLCOLM”. Malcolm comes out of the guest room. I ask Malcolm if he will be going to the studio with John, or staying home for dinner. And, not to brag, but Malcolm ALWAYS says, “if you are making dinner, I am staying!!!”. Sometimes he will even have dinner plans, then I make a frowny face. He says, “oh don’t worry, I can have 2 dinners.”

That’s what is so great about Malcolm. He loves a home cooked meal and he eats anything. The one thing he doesn’t eat? Avocado. Which I changed with my cheesy guacamole. I mean, it’s not quite just avocado, but still. Baby steps.

Malcolm knows not to believe me 90% of the time when I serve the meal with a warning. I am KNOWN for serving meals with a warning. Usually something along the lines of, “Okay now I’ve never made this before and I’ve never used saffron annnnd I might be a little heavy handed so it migggggght be a little sour…”.

He invites his friend over and together they play about 50 games of Madden (grown men) while drinking endless Hennessy. Actually come to think of it, that might be why Malcolm loves everything I make. The Hennessy.

I know to yell “DIIIIIIINNNNNNER” about 10 minutes before it’s ready to serve, because oh no, Madden cannot just be immediately paused. NO! Certain plays must be….played out. Clocks must…run out. I don’t fucking know but I’ve learned this is how it works.

Point is, I made the Pioneer Woman’s pork chops with garlic and wine, brussels sprouts (WHAT THE FUCK, IT’S “BRUSSELS SPROUTS”???? I THOUGHT IT WAS BRUSSEL SPROUTS life is over too much to handle) with balsamic and cranberries, and an apple, pecan and blue cheese salad. It was divine.

The point of this post (if you’ve been here, you know there rarely is one) is that I love cooking for Malcolm. He makes you feel good about anything you make. I love being in LA, in that kitchen. The second point? I’m sorry I haven’t posted much.

And for the record, yes we save a bit for Johnny.

Recipes to come!

xx

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