by Heather Schmitt-Gonzalez / Saturday, August 28, 2010
I cannot begin to tell you how much I love waking up and walking the kids outside to wait for the bus. Cool mornings. Coffee in hand. Autumn teasing. And then. ME TIME. Breathe deep. Put on the tunes. Sing...dance a bit. Read, write, cook, experiment...even cleaning seems dare I say almost enjoyable...um, no...easier. I could do pretty much anything. I could nap...watch a movie...I could even walk around in my skivvies or less. But, on this particular day (not today...it's Saturday...two days ago) I decided to make a chimidog. Not a whole families worth of chimidogs. ONE. SINGLE. CHIMIDOG.
Because in the midst all my elation and lightness and high hopes and cooking what I wanted, when I wanted it...I came across a food that was pretty UNimpressive. Not really much flavor going on. Ah well...win some, lose some. Afterall, I have the whole school year to be impressed.
Michiana-based food, drink, and travel writer with a fondness for garlic, freshly baked bread, stinky cheese, single malt Scotch, and Mexican food—who believes that immersing herself in different cultures one bite at a time is the best path to enlightenment.