Last Meal

I don't know what it is that draws me to a kitchen, but I like to spend extraordinary amounts of time in one. Cooking is not only a necessity if you like more than a sandwich, but for me, it's another creative outlet, and a way to make family and friends happy. Preparing food can also be an art form. Some dishes are so beautiful, you don't want to stick a fork in it. But you do anyway. The artist (chef or cook) considers complete devouring of their creation, a compliment to their display. So today I was preparing the peppers for our annual camping trip/family reunion, and thinking to myself just how much I love Italian sausage and peppers! Of course, every Italian's sausage and peppers are better than the next guy's, but I must truly say, "I like mine better than any I've ever had". And I've killed off my fair share of sazitsas! So the longer I'm standing in front of the stove, occasionally stirring my little pan of bell pepper ecstasy, I got to thinking, "This is quite possibly my favorite meal"! I think if I were on death row, this would be the last meal I request. One small technicality though ... I would have to be the one to prepare the sausages and make the peppers. I would make sure they would allow me enough time to make my family's world renown sausage, and my great grandmother's peppers, and teach someone to carry on the dish. Plus, I would have to make enough to feed the guards and executioners. I have a hard time cooking for 1 or 2 people. OK, everybody's fat and happy, let's get on with it.