Okay, I confess. The five pounds I gained over Christmas and New Year are still there. Still stopping me from wearing my jeans (for some reason, my family objects when I leave my jeans even discreetly unzippered). Still making me remove my wedding ring in the hope of tipping the balance of my bathroom scales one measly ounce in my favor.
It shouldn’t be this way. Theoretically, the moment the addition of cranberry sauce to every sandwich ceases, the moment the last remnants of the Christmas pudding have been washed down with whipped cream, those five pounds should melt away. Slowly, maybe, but melt nonetheless.
Ain’t happenin’.
And I know why. Because I was given a total of five cookbooks for Christmas and my adjacent birthday – the works of Yotam Ottolenghi, Gordon Ramsay, Peter Gordon, Darina Allen and Bill Granger now grace my kitchen shelves. (No one gave me the new Nigella Lawson book, but that’s a whole ’nother grudge…are you reading this, family dearest?).
I love reading cookbooks – I can do it for hours at a time. But reading’s not enough…then I have to cook the stuff. Then I have to eat it. Yep, instead of sipping on fat-busting green tea while I eat bland chicken salads, I’m whipping up lamb curry, ricotta hotcakes with maple syrup, crème brulée. And eating them.
I’m doomed.
Oh, well, might as go out in style…maybe tonight I’ll try the pork fillet stroganoff.
When I’ve finished eating and am lying on the sofa too stuffed to move, I’ll be ready for more cookbooks to read – I’d love to know your favorites!
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LOL, Emilie, I know what you mean! Have you seen the site http://www.eatyourbooks.com? It helps you find and use the recipes that are in your own cookbooks – if you're like me and it takes forever to go through all your books' indexes, just so you can figure out which of your dozen recipes for hotcakes you actually want to use, this is the site for you! Only it might make your addiction worse 🙂
My name is Emilie and I am a cookbook addict.
I could not begin to tell you how many I have. The checkout line at the grocery store is pure hell for me. The racks hold too many temptations–and I mean the cookbooks, not the candy.