Obviously I failed to remove my mandolin from the cabinet when I sliced the zucchini - no matter . . .
A drizzle of olive oil, garlic, and dried basil, some grape tomatoes, and a smattering of mozzarella (and a good roast in a 400 degree oven) later, and we had pizza-adjacent veggies. Much to the F's chagrin, I did not put pepperoni on these "pizzas," since I was going for a more margherita style. He got over it.
On a totally unrelated note, my most-beloved coworker and I were discussing the noble business of stripping this evening, at which point I declared that it is not a profession to which I could ever consider . . .
. . . And then I saw these.
Brian Atwood via Saks
Only Mr. Atwood could make a stripper shoe look this good, and make me actually think that if I was a stripper, I would be a stripper in $970 shoes, and maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
But who am I kidding, I was born to cook, love books, and be a librarian, and being a stripper has nothing to do with any of those things and I would be awful at it. Perhaps stripper shoes in a library wouldn't be so bad, either? What say you, peeps?