02 October 2006
Evidence that I don't deserve my beautiful kitchen
I like cooking and do a lot more of it than most people in my generation or the several generations before and after mine. However, at lunch time or when I've got nanoseconds before I need to run out the door to a gig, I cut corners.
Unfortunately, I've been cutting corners more than usual lately. In the last week, I played a set with Symphony Silicon Valley, the fledgling reconstitution of the late San Jose Symphony currently comprised of more people than services, and I had suppers comprised of more Coke Zero than food.
For lunch today, I proved to myself that seven-year-old just-add-water instant chili packets taste like cardboard. If you add a dash of green Tabasco, it tastes like cardboard with a dash of green Tabasco. Anybody who's surprised by this has been eating better than I have lately.
Unfortunately, I've been cutting corners more than usual lately. In the last week, I played a set with Symphony Silicon Valley, the fledgling reconstitution of the late San Jose Symphony currently comprised of more people than services, and I had suppers comprised of more Coke Zero than food.
For lunch today, I proved to myself that seven-year-old just-add-water instant chili packets taste like cardboard. If you add a dash of green Tabasco, it tastes like cardboard with a dash of green Tabasco. Anybody who's surprised by this has been eating better than I have lately.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)