I hadn’t planned on showing you beefy mini stout pies and blueberry pecany french toast in the same day, but sometimes life takes us in unexpected turns. Like when you have a nightmare that you cut all of your hair off after thinking so much about Winona’s hair, but in your dream it doesn’t look anything like Winona’s cool hair. It actually ends up looking like Donald Trump’s hair, and you wake up in a sweaty frenzied panic and accidentally punch your husband in the nose because it’s so dark in your room and his nose starts to bleed all over your BRAND NEW SORT OF EXPENSIVE SHEETS and you have to bandage up his entire head with towels and saran wrap but you make sure to cut out little nose and mouth holes so he can breathe and not die.
But I probably shouldn’t even go into that right now.
What I do want to get into are these mini stout pies. I want to unzip one like a tent, climb in, zip it up, and snuggle forever and ever with the beefy, beery, pea-y, carroty goodness.
. . .
You know how I do those cookbook reviews once in a while? Well, look who made herself something SWEET as a result of reviewing one of those cookbooks.
Give up? ME. I MADE THE SWEET THING. And I even liked it.
I don’t know myself anymore. It’s probably because I have Donald Trump hair now.
Here’s how that complete madness all came into place. VOILA, PIGEONS.
Oh weird! Pigeon rhymes with prison.