Fresh

A couple weeks ago, caught in a steamy, new-romance haze (opening day of the farmer's market), I laid fresh, local vegetables on a tea towel in the kitchen. Tenderly, I fluffed their frills, arranged their bulbs, and displayed their colors until they were camera ready. There was nothing dirty about it. It felt natural; it felt right.

Just look at this micro basil!

Then, my husband walked in, and the whole thing felt sordid.

I covered:

"Uhhhh, I'm starting a food blog," I said.

"Oh. OK, honey. You need me to watch the kids for a few extra minutes while you finish up?" he asked.

Yes. Yes, I do. You should know this is going to take up lots of my time and is going to involve many glasses of wine and bubble baths and possibly hours of quiet contemplation. Thanks for being so supportive.