chopped

If my day was a pie, a good six of the eight slices would have been devoted to the culinary goddessing today. That is, I invested so much time in the kitchen, one would expect a week-long feast rather than the french toast, quesadilla, pot-o-soup, and batch-o-cookies I turned out.

Not unlike my meal making counterparts, I find chopping an exceptional devourer of time. Chop the onions. Chop the celery. Chop the carrots. Mince the garlic. Remove ribs from the kale. Some love consistency, uniformity. I? I might best be described as a "rustic" chopper - slices of all artistic shaped and sizes. Perhaps there's a bit of pioneerswoman in my spirit. I may never get As in aesthetics in culinary school, and my veggies may not saute to perfection at the same rate due to their varied thicknesses. But, damn! I am quick. And happy! Thank God for sharp knives that fit in the hand! Also, thank God for the husband who introduced me to exactly what a good, sharp knife is!