Tomatos, poatatos, beans, peas, water
My parents came for a visit yesterday and brought with them the index card on which I wrote my very first recipe (Age 6):
Sounds delicious, doesn't it?
Seeing this card reminded me that my brother, Jon, and I used to play restaurant when we were little, and I remembered writing a menu for it. More specifically, I remember removing my class photo from the pearly-glossy-cardboard frame it came in, and turning it into the menu, and hoping I wouldn't get in trouble for doing it. After about 20 minutes of going through some boxes in the attic, I found it (Age 7; 2nd Grade):
That was the cover. Here's the inside:
At least I spelled everything correctly, but I'm cracking up over the fake-French-accent-thingy after the "t" of Parfait, and how I thought I could make it even more French-sounding by adding an extra "L" to my name.
And to all the fooderati who thought they declared bacon a hot trend, I think I had you beat. My "restruant" was SOLD OUT of our awesome bacon all the way back in 1975. So suck it, all you baconphiles.
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