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Dan and I made our semi-annual child-free escape to exotic Fort Worth this past weekend, which is extremely good for our marriage in that we can hear each other speaking for more than 15 uninterrupted seconds at a time and also that I am reminded how pleasant it is to order a giant plate of salad...

...and still get to eat some of his donut holes.


Likewise, I can ORDER a plate of pancakes yet END UP WITH half a plate of pancakes and half a plate of farmer's market omelet with fruit. So much better.

I just think this is the sort of thing that commitmentphobes might want to note.

Dan wasn't really involved in the following plate of food beyond sitting across from it, I just wanted to show you this intensely green sandwich before I move on to the decidedly ungreen tray of Farmer Boy food coming up.

Remember what good decisions I was making in this moment.

I decided it was time to get authentic with my Famer Boying, so I hit up my girl Fannie Farmer for some guidelines on making rye bread.

There were…some. Some guidelines. "Shape into loaves and bake" type of stuff.

The best thing about using a 19th century recipe is that you can claim it was supposed to look like that, it's just rustic, obviously, get with the authenticity everyone. The second best thing is that you can call "bread, sausage, cheese, and apples" a meal.


Anyway, we're all pretty excited about summer here, yes we know it isn't really summer yet, thanks, just getting super pumped in advance.