So lately I've been pulling out cookbooks in the evenings. Perhaps that's because my oven is broken (and will be for another week and a half! If only I'd actually called sooner to schedule a fix....sigh... at least the top still works...) and if I can't COOK, I at least like to look. Much like when I was pregnant, couldn't stand the smell of food, and fell in love with the cooking shows on at the time. (I remember it being Emerill, but that can't be right... can it??)
My kitchen is small, but if you don't count cake decorating books, I've got at least two dozen. I've got plenty of cake books... hardcover, as well as annual Wilton yearbooks going back to at least 1993. Does this vast collection make me a fraud, since I usually make things like spaghetti and chicken caesar salad, and not pumpkin orange tart with orange sabayon creme?
Is it enough that I just get enjoyment from browsing through the books, folding down the corners of recipes I'll probably never try?? It is to me! Certainly "entertainment" is the secret second purpose of these books. (After making money... NO, I mean instructing the buyer.... heh)
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