I don't mean for this to be an overly emotional, sappy post about how we met and fell in love...it's mostly to explain a few things...such as, how does a professional cook live and love a man who puts an excess of cinnamon in his clam batter? flour his steak? make banana omelettes? turkey blue cheese and pickle sandwiches? blue cheese teriyaki chicken?
We met in a sandbox, technically we met before then. Technically our mothers were friends before we even existed.
Here would be an ideal spot for an old picture of the two of us eating mud pies, but I'm afraid we were too busy to ever sit still for a picture.
Instead I've added this picture, of random children eating random mud pies that i pulled from the internet. I doubt we were this cute.
At the age of ten, just when boys might maybe stop having cooties, my family moved to Montreal. My man and I stayed in touch via email, and from Montreal we moved to Cleveland, from Cleveland, I went to college, to culinary school, to Paris, to dropping out of culinary school to Montreal, to Cleveland, and finally back to Maine.
We're back to our old routine, of goofing off, acting childish, and playing in the sandbox (or the sand).
Needless to say it's hard not to love someone you've known forever, who makes you laugh and who reeks of creativity...whether it comes in the form of swingsets that turn into time machines or raw oyster omelettes.
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