Last night I pranced in from work and plopped down a Jamaican Patty with the same enthusiasm your cat offers a dead bird at your feet. I question my mates love of food when he simply smiled and looked at it. He didn't pick it up and immediately smash it in his mouth, like I refrained from doing. A coworker brought them for us gals, a genuine treasure. Homemade patties are flaky, like a croissant with beef inside (chicken in this case) with enough heat and spice to make it memorable. I love to partake in foods that I would or could never make myself, and this is one of them. I gave that patty exactly overnight to sit in that fridge and be claimed before I commenced to heating it up and pairing with a couple of fried eggs!
I don't understand this side of some humans. How anyone could resist such culinary treasures. How a Jamaican Patty would not be welcomed as an immediate bonus to the present moment.this is a blog about the food in my life. what I eat, what I wanna eat, what I make, what I bake, what I wanna make and bake, ideas and recipes. it's also my thoughts on food or stories behind the meals. The lyric references are from my lifelong love of classic rock and funk and from working a hunnerd years in music retail.
Monday, March 7, 2022
And the Moment That You Wander Far From Me
When my mate does these things I consider him a stranger and refuse to recognize this side of him. But later appreciate our differences, especially where food is concerned, otherwise we might be 300 pounds.
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