I should be packing for my trip to Louisiana. We're driving down tomorrow as soon as I get back from work, and after a short stop in St. Louis, we'll be in New Orleans and Baton Rouge, visiting Murdo's family and hopefully stuffing our faces with po' boys, fried crawfish, gumbo, and the rest.
But instead, I'm writing. Slouching on the couch. Laptop on my lap. Hockey game on in the background (Black Hawks just won. I've never been a hockey fan, but I think a "WOOHOOO! YEAAAH! GO HAWKS!" is currently a requirement for anyone who claims to be a Chicagoan.).
OK, so I may be a wee bit of a procrastinator. I'm no longer the procrastinator I was in third grade, when I waited until the day before my project on the Comanche Indians was due to actually start on it. (It was a hanging mobile, the hangers wrapped with red yarn, and my mom and sister did the entire project for me. BTW, thanks for that, Mom and Jenny. Heh.) But I still certainly put a few things off every now and then. Like packing. And replenishing my I-Pass account. And returning the cast iron grill my dad got me for Christmas in exchange for a cast iron skillet.
A cast iron skillet is one of those cookware items that probably every cook should own. I don't completely understand why (yet), but I'm guessing it's one of those things that you don't realize you could never live without until you actually own one.
And I'll get around to owning one, eventually. But right now, I really have to pack. So I leave you with a few photos of my family's Mother's Day dinner, because if there's one thing I hate to put off, it's showing you what I eat.
(The steak was pan-fried to perfection in a cast iron skillet. Cooked and plated by my dad.)
Have a great week!