I know there must be something wrong, but I enjoy reading cookbooks while I am eating. There is nothing like reading about the proper way to julienne a parsnip when you are eating a peanut butter sandwich. It’s funny, but I never imagine the taste of parsnips then. It’s only afterwards, when I fall asleep, and dream, and they come to me, seared in brown butter. “Mmm, boy,” I say to myself, “if that isn’t a parsnip.” Well, it is. In today’s world, there is nothing more alive than a dream. It doesn’t always have to be about parsnips. Still, I have to say, in the distance, I often see a jar of peanut butter. He is walking away, and I can’t see his face. If I did, I bet he would look very sad. I wonder what he is dreaming about that makes him so sad.
I know there must be something wrong, but I enjoy reading cookbooks while I am eating. There is nothing like reading about the proper way to julienne a parsnip when you are eating a peanut butter sandwich. It’s funny, but I never imagine the taste of parsnips then. It’s only afterwards, when I fall asleep, and dream, and they come to me, seared in brown butter. “Mmm, boy,” I say to myself, “if that isn’t a parsnip.” Well, it is. In today’s world, there is nothing more alive than a dream. It doesn’t always have to be about parsnips. Still, I have to say, in the distance, I often see a jar of peanut butter. He is walking away, and I can’t see his face. If I did, I bet he would look very sad. I wonder what he is dreaming about that makes him so sad.
Comments