One thing I think is so silly and funny is when people take pictures of their food before they eat it (and look, here I went and did it, too.) I have found this to be particularly true of native-born Texans, especially, or maybe it's just a trend with my family members on Facebook. Texans talk about their next meals, the meals they just had, and meals of memory. The Ghosts of Briskets past haunt us all, in our walks and on our scales. We had no more finished our big, perfect meal than we were driving to pick up barbecue for tomorrow night's meal planned with cousins, sister, nephews, etc. The food is the mortar--the family are the bricks.
|"The Flag" plate, before beef, chicken, and cheese enchiladas with three kinds of sauces, beans, rice, and guacamole on the side with fresh unsweetened ice tea with a lime, crisp tortilla chips, and yes...queso.|
|"The Flag" plate - post devouring|
I am always amused by the 'shared meals' in Azeroth, too. I was used to to being the lone shaman most of the time and bring my own flasks and food for raids, and have been slowly but surely getting used to the shared cauldrons and feasts my generous leader provides for us. We have had a bit of a patchy start, and as Team I gets heroic after heroic accomplished, and we're still having personnel issues, it must be a tough pill to swallow sometimes for him. And just when it seems like everyone's at the table, there I go and bail on the raids for this week. But he never complains, never pulls the "I've been slaving over a hot stove all day and this is the thanks I get?!"
Some of the food and drink achievements are some of my favorites, and I am looking forward to seeing what new ones Blizzard has cooked up for us.
Am I a good cook? I can be, I suppose. When I'm not eating fish feasts.
This is one thing I make to perfection, and found the recipe on line to share with you: Apple Pie Americana
The trick is for the crust, put the milk in the freezer for a little while, and do not shy around from the butter and real sugar for the crumbly topping.
Postscript: The gift of the tackle box was not without strings, my friend. Please go fishing. :)