So You Want to Be a Guinea Pig?

This actually isn't an opinion post, although I should have written one about Mission: Impossible 3. Maybe I'll do that later. Or tomorrow. Jeez, have some patience.

My goal this year is to develop my own recipes for meatballs, risotto and cheesecake. Separately of course. That would make one really weird combined dinner/dessert if they were all together. I don't want to call this a "resolution," because that way I won't have to feel bad if I fail. Besides, if you want resolutions, you can go read about beer. Or form your own resolutions and get off my case.

These probably sound like pretty random foods, but there's always a method to my madness. First off, everyone needs a good meatball recipe. Once you've had some quality homemade meatballs, that store-bought crap is only good enough for meatball grinders. And I can't be sitting around here waiting for other people to make meatballs for me. It's time to seize the day!

Next, I had risotto with my meal at Sadie and John's rehearsal dinner and then again at dinner the other night, and both times it was probably better than the main part of the meal. Both had some gorgonzola cheese, and the latter also had spinach and artichoke. That definitely seems like the kind of thing I could handle, and would offer another side dish to my repertoire, which is slightly thin at the present.

Finally, cheesecake is a fantastic dessert but absurdly expensive at restaurants, almost prohibitively so. So if i could make my own, maybe I could charge exorbitant prices and not have to get a real job! Or at least have some sweet cheesecake to enjoy. Either way really.

So where do you come in? Someone's gotta eat all this stuff when I whip it up or else I'll end up being like 350 lbs and needing a walker to get around. But then you have to tell me how to improve on the food. Hey, there's no such thing as a free lunch.

And no, I don't want your recipe. Or your cousin's. Or your aunt's. Or your grandmother's that's been passed down for 4 generations. Then it wouldn't be mine, now would it? Quit trying to steal my thunder, you insensitive clod.

-Jon