Truman Capote's main character in Breakfast at Tiffany's complained of the Mean Reds--which are the exact opposite of the Blues... Leave it to those mean little Southern writers... they sure knew how to turn a phrase.
The dinner is paid for, cooked and put away and with nothing on the horizon but a farewell to friends and the temp, gym, audition, lather, rinse, repeat grind stretching endlessly through the holidays... It's nice to have a kitchen (such as it is) stocked with staples.
I may not be able, at the moment, to do what I came back to this town for, but hell... I can FEED people! Strangely enough, it's food for the soul as well to watch someone put something you've added egg yolks, sugar, butter, semi-sweet chocolate, strawberries and a currant glaze to into their mouths and for a split instant, see something pre-empt the nicety they were going to utter and watch them be transported. It may only be for an instant, but it's gratification of a very deep kind to know that you have not only provided sustenance for someone, but taken them--if only for a nanosecond, somewhere memorable.
God made butter and sugar, combined them... and saw that it was GOOD.
A-MEN!
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