I’m a ripper. A magazine ripper. I rip out recipes and gardening tips and pictures of Julia Roberts so I can copy her eye makeup one day when I actually wear eye makeup. But mostly I rip out recipes. The result is an unwieldy tattered mess in a pile on the bookshelf.
One of my first summer projects was to turn all of the collected pages into a cookbook. I figured it would take me an afternoon and the better part of an evening to finish. I just finished a few minutes ago, having started last Monday. Factor out moments of extreme ADD and you still have a project that took 18 hours over six days to complete.
This isn’t the first time I’ve compiled recipes into my own cookbook. My first version is a forest green photo album where I peeled away the protective plastic to stick recipes to the pages. The book must be 20 years old at least. I doubt I’ve used it 20 times in those 20 years.
This time the book was made with the user in mind. This time the pages are sheet protectors that can be removed one at a time. This time there is only one recipe per page. This time everything is held in two 2” binders with tabs. This time no recipe was allowed that required any type of crust to be created from scratch. Let’s not kid ourselves.
I was so impressed with my organizational skills, I figured why stop with the mess on my bookshelf? Let’s tackle my Pinterest boards too! My food category, Num Num was split into Num Num: Desserts!, Num Num: Eat Your Veggies!, Num Num: Party Starters and Num Num: Thirst Quenchers (which is really just where I hide all of the alcohol drenched fruit). I was ready to break things down even further when Pinterest put the kibosh on my pinning practices for excessive repinning.
Now I could understand their apprehension if I were creating boards titled In the Kitchen: Poisons or Gifts: Holiday Mail Bombs, but I can promise you I was not. I was simply subdividing my chaotic food board. No need to go all Patriot Act on me.
I really don’t think this is what George W. intended. I should appeal to him directly to get my pinning privileges reinstated. He would agree with me that the summer salsa with its corn and black beans would be a fine appetizer for a cookout (he’ll call it a barbeque though). And meatloaf made in a muffin pan? Shut the front door. He’d make a phone call and I’m free to pin again. Then he’ll whisper to the Secret Service agent to save him one of those cupcakes that look like a watermelon. The seeds are really chocolate chips, he would say with delight!
And that’s how you get a presidential pardon, y’all.