Modern Day Betty Crocker

I'm obsessed with the BC. The Barefoot Contessa. I love her way. I love her shirts (she has them custom-made. they can not be purchased by just anyone). She's not perfect, or pretentious, she just likes to cook for her gay friends and her loving husband in a non-fussy way. She roasts a chicken every Friday for Jeffrey. That's love. And once, she made four different cocktails for him on a Friday night. She made a Manhattan, a Mai Tai, and two others that I can't remember. Then, when he got home she had him test each one and then she gave him the one he wanted. He picked the Manhattan.

I love her recipes. They're always decadent and gorgeous. One of the best things I've learned from her is to always give an indication to your guests of what they're eating. For example-adorn carrot cupcakes with a few shavings of carrot so that no one will wonder what's inside. Or, use the same herbs that you used to roast your chicken to garnish the plate so all will know that there is thyme and lemon involved.

I own two Barefoot Contessa cookbooks (Parties! and Barefoot in Paris). I also have a little recipe journal branded by her.

But alas, today I write to tell all of you non-cooks that you, too, can hone the BC's divinity by running (not walking) to your neighborhood Crate & Barrel and purchasing her mixes. The woman has officially hit commodity status. See ya on the flip side, Betty Crocker.