Different

Different isn't always bad. It's just, different.

It isn't always great, either.

Take, for instance, the grocery store. The salsa selection has three (3!) brands from which to choose. Ditto with the canned chili. There is usually one kind of taco seasoning packet.

Now, y'all know I'm pretty open-minded on the culinary front. But boiled peanuts and pulled pork just aren't a fair trade for smoked brisket and chorizo breakfast burritos.

To be fair, there's a lot to be said for fresher seafood and summers that aren't life-threatening. (I'm trying to be fair, here)

The result of this culture shift (shock?) is that I enjoy my own cooking even more. It may sound conceited, but the fact is that KiSA and I are both pretty good cooks. And I really, really enjoy it. I love gettin' crazy with the spices, jammin' down to whatever kind of music fits the cuisine, and teaching SK how to find his way around the kitchen. I get a kick out of fresh vegetables, especially. I get an even bigger kick out of SK exclaiming, "Celery? I LOVE celery! It's crunchy!"

KiSA did a fantastic job with some brats and kraut last week. He was infusing and deglazing and caramelizing and amaze-ing! We teamed up to make a killer carne guisada the week before. And I plan on pulling out KiSA's dad's award winning chili recipe this week. (Don't even ask me to post it, I was in the family for years and had to do some intensive, top-secret-level-negotiations to get that recipe.) Mostly, I just like sitting down at the table together as a family, soaking up the richness of together, sharing, and love.