Well, at least the fridge is. I haven't been to a grocery store for over a week. So cooking has been non-existent. Today I'm unpacking all the kitchen boxes and starting to find the pots, pans and dishes hoping to spark the cooking bug and get this house up and running.
I decided I was tired of going to McDonald's for lunch and remembered some show Martin and I had watched a while back on the Food Network. It was about a sandwich shop in New York that only serves peanut butter sandwiches. At the time I thought it was crazy when the guy said one of their best selling peanut butter sandwiches was the peanut butter marshmallow fluff.
I went to my pantry. Peanut butter - check. Marshmallow fluff - check.
Some of you may have been doing this your whole lives, but it's new to me.
I'm not really a peanut butter fan, except for Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie, which is like eating crack cocaine, because I can't stop.
This wasn't crack, but it was close. Holy cow, I am about to become addicted.