Gluttony, Be Gone!

It’s on the counter, right next to the electric tea kettle. Even as I reach for my favorite coffee cup, I cannot look away…

There are two more hefty slices of the decadent chocolate caramel pecan pie that my daughter’s husband made. This pie is supremely rich. I pat myself on the back….my serving slices have been more conservative than usual.

HA! Who am I kidding?!

There are also a couple of pieces of apple-pear pie left. This pie, also prepared by my daughter’s husband, sits on the other side of the counter. Her gooey sweetness is calling my name as I reach for my espresso pot on this frigid winter morning; “I’d be perfect with your morning espresso,” she says with a sweet southern drawl.

I’m startled out of my just-out-of-bed state.  AH…I’m hallucinating, I’m sure of it.  Pies do not talk. Sugar overload has saturated my brain cells.

I move the apple-pear pie, placing it next to the chocolate pie. It takes every ounce of willpower to resist digging in with a fork.

December 31st cannot come soon enough. That’s tomorrow right?

If I can just get through two more days of year-end celebrations….

Now my head is pounding. Is that a banshee warning cry I am hearing?!

YOU SHOULD START NOW!  After all, there is no time like the present.

My brother-in-law made Oysters Rockefeller. I ate two and I NEVER eat oysters!

OH…. but my brain is in a fog from days of gourmandizing.  It’s not my fault I insist (which would be THE one time I throw individual responsibility under the bus!). I mean really…how could one not have seconds (and thirds) of my homemade leek-stuffed tortellini (first in brodo then in a spicy tomato sauce)?   And yes…all strength of will was c’est impossible! at our Christmas Eve dinner of Seven Fishes.  On the menu that night was salmon Wellington,  seafood gumbo, oysters Rockefeller, mussels in garlic and wine, salt-encrusted branzino and hazelnut-encrusted shrimp with a fabulous aioli.  So many cooks in the kitchen were on hand to prepare that spectacular feast.  Even Rocket-man contributed by making a loaf of bread from scratch.

Then there was my petite soirée just last night.

Excuse me while I groan with a mixture of pleasure and stomach pain….

We had some folks over to help us celebrate our Alabama house closing. With the help of a magnum of Chardonnay (yes…a magnum!), prosecco, red wine and the best jalapeño poppers on the planet we cheered that we were finally free of the southern albatross. Poppers wrapped in bacon was not the only treat. Sis made cannolis for the first time. The delightfully sweet concoction was dipped in dark chocolate chips and I simply couldn’t resist not one, but two.  (Does not indulging in a third grant me any kudos?!).  From there I switched to my favorite red wine and then off I went face down into chips and seven-layer dip.

I did not stop there. No siree.  I also made slow-cooker bourbon cocktail sausages. I’d never made these before either.

OMG“, I said as I speared my third helping with a fancy party toothpick. “How is it I made it to sixty without trying this recipe?!”

Yes indeed folks, IT IS TIME to rein myself in big time after  three weeks of living-in-the-moment when it comes to food. (Yes…my waistline is painfully aware of my dietary indiscretion).

It’s time to get back on the rowing machine….I’m going to the gym as soon as I take my last swig of coffee.

Oh wait….I’m not going anywhere.


OH for heaven’s sake….the universe must be against me!

My eye catches the panettone on my dining room table. It’s still wrapped in a pretty silk bow. It’s one more holiday indulgence that simply cannot be ignored. After all Christmas comes but once a year.

Yes indeed!  It’s been utterly fun these past few holiday weeks trying new things in the kitchen. Still, December 31st cannot get here soon enough. It’s when I WILL….positively….absolutely… empty cupboards and the refrigerator of every last morsel of holiday food!  Into the trash bin they will go.

But one more hurrah (or two) before the year is out…it’s snowing and, well…it would be sacrilegious throwing good bubbly down the drain. It makes perfect sense to enjoy a little prosecco bliss.

So, dear folks near and far, cheers to Gluttony, be gone AND all things wild and wonderful for 2018.

Peace, love, joy and yes…optimal health, to you and yours. ❤

Prosecco bliss

4 thoughts on “Gluttony, Be Gone!

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