I get her vibe, I do. She’s sweet and sassy and cooks like the Southern mama you never had.
But if I ate like she cooked for even two weeks I’d probably be dead. Or on my way to a quadruple bypass at a minimum. (Bad genes in the cholesterol department.)
We joined our local Y, Taxman and I, for the Fitness Center. We both need to be active, for different reasons, but the unifying theme is no excuses. So we’ve got a pretty inexpensive, nicely equipped, weatherproof gym that’s close to the house and on Taxman’s way home from work.
Anyway, I was at the gym today, doing intervals on the treadmill (GAH!) and watching Paula fry things all over the Food Network. Again, I am not against frying as a whole. I don’t think I have ever turned down any kind of fried potato in my life.
But at the end of the show she took a cheesecake out of her fridge, cut a slab from it, wrapped the slab in a wonton skin, and fried it. Then dusted it in powdered sugar. Then halved it, put it on a plate, drizzled chocolate sauce and raspberry sauce over it, sprinkled more powdered sugar, and finally added an enormous dollop of whipped cream and a mint leaf.
Really, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I would, however, probably step on some toes to get a taste of it.