Well I don't.
But I imagine if I did, it would feel kind of like how I feel right now - burnt (-out emotionally) and hungry (for another chance at success). I must admit, however, that these feelings are currently more physical than emotional.
As I type this, I have but one useful finger on my right hand, the remainder holding a dripping icecube to the fingerpad of my index finger. Hence the burn in my life. The hunger results from the failure of my latest dinner attempt - a chickpea farinata that was anything but fair. And the recipient of the blame? My adorable six inch cast iron skillet that I spent the past days lovingly seasoning, only to have my chickpea pancake burn to the very surface.
To be fair, I can't put all the blame on the little skillet. After all, I pulled her out of a 450 degree oven with no more than a kitchen towel; I knew that chickpea flour tastes (to me) like rotten soap; I had no desire to spend a small fortune on linseed oil to create the slickest, strongest seasoning possible. I guess it isn't all the skillet's fault after all.
And as I'm sure you would do with your children or employees, I'll stick it out with her. We'll head back to the oven with another coat of oil, another good long bake, and an additional chance at success.
But first I'm going to eat.
|a younger Jerome|