It’s the day before Thanksgiving and while the family celebration will not be in our home this year, we still find ourselves in the kitchen baking; I guess some habits are hard to break. My family is spread out all over the United States from one coast to the other and a few States in between so we aren’t together for holidays; The Professor’s family is anchored in Indiana with a brother in close proximity in the Cincinnati area – it’s nice to share a meal with the family and to visit with the nieces and nephew who are out conquering the world.
I have a guilty pleasure. Actually more than one but I’m only going to out myself with this: I have a thing for hot dogs. And I don’t even care if you scrunch up your nose and shout an audible ‘ewwwwww’ – it’s totally fine. I’ll just eat yours too. And for the record, I loved fried bologna sandwiches as a kid – mustard and ketchup on white bread – oh, and yes, please do add that slice of American cheese, unwrapped from the plastic and melted onto that fried bologna. Okay, so that makes two guilty pleasures I’ve confessed to.