because I’m a dictatorial cook

Went over to a friend’s house recently, to vegetate like eager addicts with a pile of inviting DVD goodness. I brought over food; it was, as somebody put it, enough food to feed the Red Army. And, as someone else noted, it’s important to have food when you are watching hours and hours and hours of entertainment.

More than happy to feed people, I cautioned them that I would be so honored if they’d let me assemble their first servings. On each of the white plates, I gingerly ladled a few tablespoons of garlicky black bean stew, next to steaming white jasmine rice, and a rolled up, pan-toasted corn tortilla filled with an unorthodox combo: stewed chicken, collards, and a few strands of shredded cheddar. They declared it delicious. A sigh of relief! I subsequently permitted them to assemble their own plates.

But, see, I had to assemble those first plates and exert control to maximize their appetizing natures. And now, because the results were positive, this will only reinforce my bossiness in the kitchen.

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