Hello and Welcome from LaLa Land

This morning I decided to push myself and make biscuits and sausage for breakfast. Having watched two hours of the Food Network last night, my brain was already running a streaming commentary on the nature of these beautiful little bread products. How easy they were. I tossed the baking powder, flour, Crisco and salt in with an extra flourish and began mashing with a fork.

"Look at this. No mixer. That's Old school." I could hear the spiky haired Guy Fieri of Diner's Drive-ins and Dives voice over. I thought about how the camera would pan around my kitchen and about the lead in, "Substitutions are welcome." as I explained that I didn't have a biscuit cutter or a pastry maker but an ice cream scooper and a fork worked just as well.

I then looked at my non regulatory kitchen with six different spoons and five knives thrown hastily into a drawer along with four paper cut out coupons from the back of a cereal box. I decided my inelegant organization would be part of the show, part of my character. I'd be a real person who had to cook for real people with a real kitchen that didn't always have the ingredients on hand, and who had to make food not just with a time crunch, but which people would actually eat. My kids would be the test audience.

"Most food shows use the throw pillow technique to make food look awesome. There's the base and all the foo foo stuff on top in an artful way. This would be a meal without all the throw pillows. What mattered was the mattress and the blanket and the pillow." And if I messed up with something I’d say a signature line like “Oh well, I get busy talking and while it never happens in fake world, but it happens here…"

"Mom," my daughter interrupted, "Your sausage IS burning."

"Just flip it dear." I murmured, as I was still off on a food network bender binge with a show on organization and how I am the worst with clutter. I'd even opened a drawer or two to illustrate. It wasn't until I started considering how I'd make the pitch to an agent that I realized, I had not pre-heated the oven for the biscuits I'd been showcasing in this narrative although my daughter had saved the sausage.
For the Easter show, I'm clearly going to need more sous chefs.