Dear Saveur, Thank you for styling your enchiladas with onion rings so that my enchiladas could be purdy too. Dear Cooking Light, props on setting the precedent with a recipe for from-scratch enchilada sauce that was much simpler than Saveur's uber authentic one. Dear cream cheese and cheddar cheese, You make everything better. Queen of examples: extra proportions on casseroles.
Dear Teacher Friend C., Even though you were tired and recovering from lingering sickness, you came for Blonder Than She Pays to Be on Monday. You said you came "for the food" after I sent my menu email. That makes my (prideful) heart happy. Dear Joy the Baker, Your Orange and Avocado Salad paired perfectly with my enchiladas for wintertime. Thanks for your recipe brilliance.
Dear creative inspiration, why do you come so late at night as I type this post? I want to be a better morning person! Dear Today's Letters, I love the honest intentionality with which you express yourself in the blogosphere and with which you seem to live your life. Hopefully you will be okay that I copycatted your style in this post.
It's like 70 degrees for some reason, but Santa music and commercialized holiday, to put it frankly, vomit invaded a while ago. Despite all that confusion and disgust, I have slowed my life in an attempt to reclaim the anticipation and hope of a Savior that our culture slandered somewhere along the way.
And the season got much sweeter (pardon the cheesy pun) when I walked into Publix on Advent Eve to find the holiday baking display highlight: red, green and white M&Ms. So naturally, they were in the cart and, upon arrival back home, studded in cookie dough filled with melted chocolate chips.
And then off they went to roommates, in baggies to share with family members I saw, to a plate to serve with dinner with my Monday night girls (who need a name), to the office (where I ate 5 in one afternoon-there is a reason for individual apportioned servings), back to roommates, to spread the cheer of chocolate and mint.