I have a confession to make. I am a bad friend. You see, my friend Becky's birthday party is next weekend, and after a FB post about her love of Jamie Oliver's food philosophy, I skipped to Borders to purchase one of his cookbooks for her. I added it to the pile of books (I can never seem to get out of a bookstore for under a $100!) and promptly displayed it on my kitchen island to wrap. Of course, while settling down to watch Sherlock Holmes last night (a gift for my husband who claimed I actually bought it for myself and not for him), I picked up the cookbook to peruse through it. Before I knew it, Sherlock Holmes faded into the background, and I had begun putting "post its" on recipes of interest. I looked up to see my husband watching me curiously. "What are you doing?" he asked, accusingly. "Well," I replied, "I thought I would copy down a few of these recipes before I wrap it up." "So," he retorted, "you're going to give your friend a used cookbook for her birthday?" WHAT? "I don't think Becky will mind," I mumbled, which I knew she wouldn't since we both share the love of cooking. And since when has Dave been my moral compass? This is the man who swears every chance he can get! Still, I closed the book, tuned back into Sherlock Holmes (which I DID buy for him and not for me), and employed a few moments of radio silence. When I felt that enough time had passed, I demurely asked him what he wanted for dinner on Sunday night. His response? "I want the pork roast on page 129. And I want it to look just like the picture." Jerk. I guess I will be off to Concord in a few days to buy another cookbook for Becky!