Thank you/damn you, Nicole!

My amazing friend Nicole was this week's F Words subject. You have to check it out, because Nicole is, in a word, stupendous. To wit:

Do you prefer to cook alone, or with friends?
ALONE. Get the hell out of the kitchen. I have tremendous amounts of performance anxiety. My father-in-law kept hovering over me when I was making my first Thanksgiving dinner, and once he finally got to “you know you’re using that cutting board upside down?” I had to bounce him formally. Of course, that was also the year I made the goose, and was using one of those awful single-use foil roasting pans. It snagged invisibly on the element coil, and about three cups of goose fat settled into the top of the stove. The goose, of course, was delicious, the experience of using a putty knife the day after to scrape congealed goose fat out of the stove, less so.

As long as you don’t watch what I’m doing, you’re welcome to stay and make me a gin and tonic and talk to me about Mad Men.

The recipe she shared was for her family's signature peach pie, and now peaches are all I can think about. But they won't be in season in these parts for weeks.

Some people say delayed gratification is a sign of adulthood.

I say that's some serious crap spoken by someone who's never had a strong craving for peaches.