Normally, I adore everything about The Fatted Calf. All their meats are delectable, and I look forward to reading their newsletter even though it inspires dreadful, inconsolable longing, because it is such delightful food porn.
But lately, I've been rolling my eyes back into my head when I read those newsletters. And the reason is that they've been (goodnaturedly) complaining about the horrors of winter. Oh PLEASE. What a bunch of candy-ass whiners. I'm sorry, if you live anywhere that has a farmer's market even in February, you have no grounds whatsoever to complain about winter. Ever.
Take this for example, from the newest newsletter:
"Indoor living starts to feel a little stale by the time March rolls around. I start to have hopes and dream of picnicking on less sodden ground. While the rain blows sideways, I think about cooking paella over an open fire at the beach instead of on our Weber in the freezing carport. And already, dressed in parka and galoshes I am gardening in short stretches between rain showers."
Oh, the terrible sadness of having to cook on your carport Weber in March, and having to garden with a coat on. Listen, wusses, I dug my car out of 8 inches of snow YESTERDAY. Don't talk to me about your suffering or the cold weather. I don't get a fresh local vegetable around here until JUNE. SO SHUT IT.
Posted by foodnerd at March 5, 2009 06:44 PMAmen, sister!
Posted by: Kate at March 11, 2009 03:30 PMTee, hee. Now it's getting far greener.
Hooboy and they're right, it's 4pm at 63 degrees. I mowed the lawns this last weekend and they're super duper bright green. Kinda hurts the eye balls. Not sure what the temp was last night, but it plummeted way down to nearly 42 degrees. I'm a little late on the take, been busy, but it's time to start buying wood and firing up the grill!
xo, Biggles
Posted by: Dr. Biggles at March 12, 2009 07:07 PM