In a perfect world, my daily dinner would be bread, wine and cheese. What a well balanced meal, right? OK, throw in a few pieces of oh, lettuce, to make it food pyramid-worthy.
So, for some reason, my friends think that I may be obsessed with these perfect foods. A lot. I mean just because I have a bumper sticker that says “life is gouda”, or an apron that says “life is bleu-tiful” doesn’t mean I would go through withdrawals if I couldn’t eat it – as far as I know. Even though my beach towel shows a picture of three bottles of wine and says “group therapy” doesn’t mean I actually need the therapy does it?
When asked if man could live on bread alone, I would venture to say “heck yes!” But only if it’s served with olive oil, cheese, and – oh yes, vino.
Bread is the food of the gods. Especially San Francisco sour dough. And rosemary Focccia with sea salt. Let’s not forget warm salted rye and French bread with roasted garlic.
See what I mean? How could one not love a life of bread? Along with a little Gorgonzola. And Zinfandel. And maybe a few apples and red grapes.
I have a flag that I bought on a trip that my husband refuses to hang outside our home. It says “Wine a bit – you’ll feel better.” Well, yeah! It works! He doesn’t think it’s funny. Or maybe it’s the wine tote I have that says “Will trade husband for wine.” No sense of humor.
A loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, a bottle of wine and thou. Isn’t that how the famous saying goes? Life is too short to not enjoy your favorite things. Julie Andrews has her “raindrops on roses and whispers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens.” My song goes more like this: “Swiss cheese on rye bread and brie that is gooey, bright chardonnay wine and French bread that’s chewy…”. Well you get the picture. So I fully to intend to embrace my love for all things Mediterranean. After all, “Life IS a Cabernet, old chum”.
So, for some reason, my friends think that I may be obsessed with these perfect foods. A lot. I mean just because I have a bumper sticker that says “life is gouda”, or an apron that says “life is bleu-tiful” doesn’t mean I would go through withdrawals if I couldn’t eat it – as far as I know. Even though my beach towel shows a picture of three bottles of wine and says “group therapy” doesn’t mean I actually need the therapy does it?
When asked if man could live on bread alone, I would venture to say “heck yes!” But only if it’s served with olive oil, cheese, and – oh yes, vino.
Bread is the food of the gods. Especially San Francisco sour dough. And rosemary Focccia with sea salt. Let’s not forget warm salted rye and French bread with roasted garlic.
See what I mean? How could one not love a life of bread? Along with a little Gorgonzola. And Zinfandel. And maybe a few apples and red grapes.
I have a flag that I bought on a trip that my husband refuses to hang outside our home. It says “Wine a bit – you’ll feel better.” Well, yeah! It works! He doesn’t think it’s funny. Or maybe it’s the wine tote I have that says “Will trade husband for wine.” No sense of humor.
A loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, a bottle of wine and thou. Isn’t that how the famous saying goes? Life is too short to not enjoy your favorite things. Julie Andrews has her “raindrops on roses and whispers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens.” My song goes more like this: “Swiss cheese on rye bread and brie that is gooey, bright chardonnay wine and French bread that’s chewy…”. Well you get the picture. So I fully to intend to embrace my love for all things Mediterranean. After all, “Life IS a Cabernet, old chum”.
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