I Believe in Paula

Originally posted on Saturday, October 28, 2006

Okay, I've been watching the Food Channel a lot lately. It's something I do when I'm trying to loose weight, and no, I don't want to hear about the ways in which some of us self sabotage, thank you. But here's my question –do any of us really trust the recipes that come from those size two girls whose aprons are wrapped three times around their non-existent hips? While they cook, they do all the obligatory cooing… "Oooh, I just wish you could smell this cheese melting into the béchamel!" and "Look at that gorgeous carmelization on those onions!" But I look at those non-existent hips, and I'm thinking there's got to be a trainer waiting in the wings to ward off the calories that come from just breathing in the béchamel. And then when the Tiny Ones taste whatever it is, they do the standard eye closing, head nodding, and groaning–with-pleasure thing, but does anyone buy it? I mean, I watch those skinny little chests heave with bliss, and a part of my brain is going, "Take two bites of that mousse, I dare you. And let me see you swallow." I just know she spit it out as soon as the camera cut away. Give me Paula Deen any day. First of all, when Paula walks into her kitchen set she's dressed to cook. Her clothes are pretty, but they're practical, and even though she's beautifully made up and her hair looks great, I know she's not going clubbing. I know it even when she forgets to take off her rings and I see a rock the size of Staten Island on her finger. I like her dogs too, and the way they make her step over them to get to the oven. I don't trust a canine who sits politely in a corner when bacon is frying. But mostly what I like is that wicked/guilty grin Paula wears when she tastes her food. She may not be a size two – and all of us who aren't a size two know how it happened -- but her grin says her recipes are worth it. She makes me want to go into the kitchen today with a pound of butter and to hell with clogged arteries. I believe in Paula.