Talk of joy: there may be things better than beef stew and baked potatoes and home-made bread - there may be.
My family lived off the land and summer evening meals featured baked stuffed tomatoes, potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh shelled peas and homemade ice cream with strawberries from our garden. With no air conditioning in those days, the cool porch was the center of our universe after the scorching days.
Breakfast is so important, so I'll make an omelet with cheese and deli meats, and then I'll eat muesli and yogurt mixed with fruit or oatmeal with fruit - and then a side of baked beans.
Steakhouses sort of have this old-school nature to them; they're like museums full of good food. It's fun hearing the waiter share his expertise on the different cuts of beef and how they're going to cut up your baked potato.
It's not like I'm out eating McDonald's and Del Taco every night. I eat good: my mom fixes dinner every single night - baked chicken, fish - she cooks a great meal every single night.
I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies and had teas.
I don't exactly know what it means to be ready. A cake when the oven timer goes off? Am I fully baked, or only half-baked?
My mother was born in your state, Mr. Walter, and my mother was a Quaker, and my ancestors in the time of Washington baked bread for George Washington's troops when they crossed the Delaware, and my own father was a slave.
I like spaghetti bolognese, I like baked beans on toast. I hate French food. I hate fancy food.
My brother liked sewing and sculpting and making things, and my sister sewed and painted and cooked and baked. She's a professional baker now and makes the most gorgeous sculpture-like cakes. She's the queen of wedding cakes in the Lake Tahoe area.