Sometimes things just go all wonky and wrong in the kitchen. It happens. I made a chocolate budino the other night, a kind of rich pudding that should have been gorgeously creamy and silky but decided to set up like a sad, gritty rock instead. (An utter waste of good chocolate. The agony!) I stared at a blank grocery list for over a week and couldn’t think of anything I’d want to make for dinner, despite the fact that: a) the summer produce is practically tap-dancing in the market, b) I write this little food blog and think about dinner all the time and c) I happen to work in a cookbook shop, for crying out loud, with thousands of recipes at my disposal. Because sometimes, when your husband’s out of town for work and you’re working late yourself, the only thing you feel like fixing is a peanut butter sandwich.
And you know what? Peanut butter sandwiches are really good. I won’t share the recipe, because I’m pretty sure you’ve got that one down (I go for extra-crunchy on rye, for what it’s worth) but I will share the reminder to cut ourselves some slack, in the kitchen and elsewhere. Life can go a little pear-shaped at times; as hard as you try, no matter how good your intentions, you’ll still occasionally fall flat. Just clean up the kitchen, take a few deep breaths and make a peanut butter sandwich. Better already.