I love to cook (and I love to eat ... hence the constant battle of the bulge). And, I love an excuse to cook. We're hosting Thanksgiving dinner at our house next week. Goblin's sister and her family are coming up from RI. So, they'll be four adults, Grendel, and two preschoolers. That's relatively low key in my book.
Our church is having a holiday faire tomorrow. I signed up to do some baking for the bake sale. I already make a nice big batch of peanut butter fudge (wicked easy: 2 bags of white chocolate chips, one stick of butter, one jar of peanut butter. Melt butter in double boiler. Add chips. Stir until chips are thoroughly melted/blended with butter. Add peanut butter. Stir until blended. Spread into a greased oblong container; I used a glass 9x12 pyrex dish. Refridgerate until set (no need to keep refridgerated). Done.
I am in the process of baking about six dozen chocolate chocolate chip cookies. I love the taste. However, when I'm making them, the dough kind of grosses me out if I look at it much. It bears a visual resemblance to a certain bodily output. Once they're baked, the resemblance is gone of course.