Savour the slaw

It's possible I will be the recovering functional eater among those of us contributing to this blog.

As 2015 gave way to 2016, and the relationship between Patricia and I deepened, I began to notice smells, blends of taste, texture and temperature as if a blown fuse had been replaced and the lights came on. Perhaps it is because my brain was so focused on medical care and strategies for holding it together, there was no capacity left to enjoy, to savour (I like throwing in GB spellings). Now, in fits and starts, there is some reawakening, perhaps even just wakening.

Many of my family members are foodies, and I have married into yet another family of such, so I expect to benefit more from the contributions and successes of others than to offer much substance myself. But, I like to write, I like experimenting with cast iron cooking, I'm getting better at working the grill, and I've become quite experienced at popcorn. Perhaps I will offer something here and there about the good ales I come across.

I go to bed tonight wearing my Twin Archers t-shirt, from a favorite restaurant in Muncie. We ate there tonight, in fact. I had blue cheese on my grass-fed burger. Joshua launched a discussion on whether pulled pork should ever be mixed with coleslaw. He can tell his side of it, and whether anyone at the table agreed with him.