The Vittles of Shame

It is only within certain specific parameters that the following recipe can exist.

First, my life is not like yours.
I submit the entirety of this blog as evidence hereto.

Secondly, my kitchen is not like yours.
I live alone.  I cook constantly.  My counter space is limited, and I have, without making too much of the point, a fractured relationship with many demands of adulthood. Specifically, I mean domestic responsibilities up to and including dishwashing.

Most critically, my food truck is not like yours. Continue reading