A Square Meal

Food confession: I'm not really crazy about turkey. I'll eat it, but I'm not someone who gets all excited about going to the Cracker Barrel to get turkey with all the fixings in the middle of May. In fact, I thought for years that what I really wanted for Thanksgiving was lasagne, garlic bread, and salad.

Because I am an evil genius, last year I mentioned my dream menu to a friend who I happen to know makes incredible lasagne and a new tradition was born. He makes the lasagne, I make the salad, garlic dipping oil for the bread, and dessert. (You'll notice who does most of the work. I told you I'm an evil genius.)

Yeah, I could probably have spent a little more time adding detail to the drawing, but today is a day for eating. Next up: an apple-cranberry galette.

Happy Thanksgiving. Whatever you're doing, whatever is on your menu, I hope it's exactly what you want.

Magically Delicious

The Caffeine Pushers at the Starbucks Cafe at Barnes & Noble are very well trained. If you order a Grande beverage, the suggest the Venti. They don't ask if you want a pastry to go with it, they suggest something specific, like a freshly baked scone or a piece of pumpkin cheesecake. I fall for this about fifty percent of the time, mostly because the Caffeine Pushers are cute guys young enough to be my sons. A little conversation with them - even if it has the tawdry tinge of commerce - makes me forget for a moment that I am middle-aged and cranky.

So it was a matter of time before one of them talked me into trying the Peppermint Crunch Bar. Now I know what you're thinking: It's a blondie! Chocolate and peppermint are a natural pairing! Stop the madness! Normally, I'd be with you on this. I tend to think of a blondie as a brownie's anemic cousin. But this was delish. The overall impression was of a soft, slightly chewy, yummy candy cane.

As a bonus, it was triangular in shape, making it easy to draw. I'm thinking from now on I should only eat foods that are geometrically shaped. Stay tuned for my square Thanksgiving entree.

Cinderella's Coach

These are the things I think about when I'm stopped at a traffic light behind a huge SUV plastered with bumper stickers. Now you know.

Winter Health Advisory

It's very important to stock up on these essentials in case illness strikes:

1. Comfy blanky. I like a throw, but a Snuggie would be nice too. Drag the comforter off your bed if you have to.

2. Old-school sitcoms. For my money, The Golden Girls is still the best. Feel free to watch something else if you must, but I can't be held responsible for the results.

3. Tea. I like it like I like my men: hot and sweet.

4. Chocolate. If I have no appetite for chocolate, I don't need a first-aid kit, I need last rites.

5. Cat. Optional but highly recommended. A dog would be good too. The point is, a warm body to snuggle up with, who doesn't care that you haven't brushed your hair or your teeth.

6. Foodtoons. Hey, you've got nothing else to do. Hook a sister up with a few comments before you take a nap.

Liberal application of all items is recommended until patient improves. And if you want to take an extra day off and continue with the regimen - just to be on the safe side - it will be our little secret.

Block Island Brownie

Obviously, this happy dancing chocolate chip "brownie bite" I had at Juice & Java on Block Island was delicious. It was just what I needed for a fuel stop in between singing showtunes with my friend Leppy, the Juice & Java caffeine pusher, and some random guy who came in for coffee, and checking my email at the library across the street to continue an important discussion with my mother about the relative merits of the 1950s production of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella versus the one from the 1970s (also, how much we heart Julie Andrews). As you do.

I drew it on the beach at the very northern tip of Block Island - as far as the seagulls would let us go, anyway. We declined to shoo them away from the very end of the beach because seagulls have crappy personalities.

Going Green

Something about a person cleaning out bottles and jars from expensive, imported food to have “green décor” and then wearing her $90 organic cotton T-shirt to a yoga class that she drives to in a 36-feet-per-gallon Humvee just bugs me.

Also, I think Martha Stewart might be the Antichrist. But that's a subject for another day.

By Request

Team Maria consists of a friend of mine and the voices in his head. I'm not privy to the workings of his Inner Multitude, but they all seem to agree that loud music is good, flannel is appropriate attire for all occasions, and bribing your friends with food is an excellent way to ensure their continued support.

So here you go, Team Maria... you didn't mean the real thing, did you?

Liver & Onions

My mom is a terrific cook. Now that I’ve got that disclaimer off my chest, can we talk about the most dreaded meal of my childhood – liver and onions? Mom and I differ in our recollections of how often this was served, so the truth must lie somewhere between every Thursday (which is what I remember) and almost never (which is what she claims).

It was a child’s worst food nightmare: strong-tasting, bitter liver with equally strong tasting onions in a sauce that had picked up the flavor of both. One of the great things about being an adult is that I can confidently say I will never eat liver and onions again. If they serve it to me some day in the Old Folks Home, I will refuse to eat it. Then I’ll haul myself up by my walker and yell “I’m revolting!” Which, by that point, will most likely be true on a lot of levels.

Vegan?

Mmmmmmm, dinosaur. My favorite.

*** It has been brought to my attention since I posted this drawing that people are not getting it. One person even suggested I was trying to post quantity and not quality (his name shall remain anonymous, but it rhymes with Dude Who Works Across The Hall Who Is Dead To Me Now).

There is a logic:

1. Vegan is a DIET, yet I keep seeing ads for (expensive) vegan shoes
2. Nobody would eat shoes, especially if they are not made of leather
3. If vegan shoes are made from plastic, are they really vegan if they are essentially made of melted dinosaur?

Welcome to my brain - basically a haunted house: a lot of empty rooms and cobwebs, with scary things that go bump in the night.

Chicken

I recently heard about some people who bought a dozen baby chicks last spring and were raising them with a view to butchering and having chicken in the freezer all winter. I like a bargain as much as the next gal, but this is a plan that would never work for me. I’d buy a dozen baby chicks, and I’d end up naming them and singing songs to them while I fed them. The next year, I’d have 30 chickens – the original dozen and their offspring – and the year after that I’d have 75, and so on until I am arrested for keeping too many chickens within the city limits.