It could be worse. I could be addicted to cigarettes or heroin.
When I reach inside my mailbox and find that one (or more) of my food periodicals has found it’s way there, I am giddy.
But do I read it immediately? Oh no!
Like the meals they highlight, these gems are meant to be savored. Slowly. And with wine. I save them up for an evening I’m alone (either literally, or because Husband is catching up on sports on TV). I pour a glass of Pinot Noir, and slowly open the cover. Continue Reading →