Success. My closet guilty pleasure is now, well, let's just say the chip is out of the bag. We have achieved the very elusive complete culinary conversion dear readers. The chip bag is empty. I repeat, the chip bag is empty.
I knew I had it in the proverbial chip bag when I started to pile on the cheese. Picture this: the bottom slice was broiled, oiled, rubbed with garlic, cheesed, topped with chips and cheesed again. Then, it started. The subtle peeks over the shoulder, the what did you put on top of that it looks not too bad proceeding to wow, that looks really really good proceeding to when will it be ready? (either they were hooked or they were really hungry).
Between you and me, I made sure to open the oven at the most opportune times allowing for maximum olfactory advantage. When your battle is this epic you have to pull out all the stops.
The moment of truth:
Originally published 10.28.10
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