Because I am stubborn and because I really feel like carrot cake, I am in the kitchen this afternoon baking one. I hope it turns out, too, because I am bringing it to my friend’s house for a dessert buffet/birthday soirée this evening.
I regret that I am not in the kitchen cooking Italian for my children (as per Barbara’s suggestion). I am, however, meeting a great group of lady friends at The Olive Garden for supper. That counts, right? And really, what is it worth turning 42 if you can’t have a massive plate of pasta with two or three breadsticks on the side?
I’ll start my low-carb diet tomorrow.
Anyway, there was a worthwhile point to this post and this is it. As I was grating up my carrots in the Cuisinart I had a flashback. A culinary flashback! (Even better.) Like Proust and his madeleines, I was transported back to my days in France and to a salad I used to have there–an elegant and yet easy salad that my host mother used to make which consisted, simply, of grated carrots in a vinaigrette.
How I loved that salad! I would take as large a portion as was polite while all the while feeling healthy and French and quite well-fed.
So there you go then.
Guess what we’re having for lunch tomorrow?
Ever the would-be foodie, I am,