Fear and chicken salad.

We're 5 posts away from 500 - which is pretty exciting. "A Mile High and Then Some..." is celebrating it's fourth year on this planet and I'm celebrating the fact that I still have topics of conversation.

But today, it's chicken salad. And fear. But the fear part comes in a little bit later.

I love chicken salad. The only problem is that when it's bad, it's horrible. While there have been instances of mediocre chicken salad in the history of the product, it usually tends to fall on opposite ends of the spectrum. I'm currently fork-deep in some from King Soopers, and it's mediocre. It needs more lemon juice, more pepper, more salt, less red onion. Good balance of celery and grape, perhaps a pinch more tarragon.
I'm currently salivating at the thought of Costco's chicken salad. They have the best rotisserie chicken, hands down, and their chicken noodle soup (made from that chicken) is divine. And super cheap. One of these days, I'm going to have to get some.
I worry that people are forgetting how to cook home cooked things. Not fine dining, that will exist forever in some form or another. But things like baked goods, meatloaf, casseroles - all the hallmarks of suburbia, of the housewife, the busy mother who manages to get dinner on the table every night by 6. I want to learn how to cook. I want to be able to bring flavor into dishes without having to get the ingredients from a box.
But I guess lots of people my age can cook.
And I guess it won't be that hard.

But on to fear. Suddenly, I don't have much to say about it.

I've moved my desk back into the conference room so I can shut the door when I'm on the phone. Which is supposed to be pretty consistently. It's not as easy as it sounds. I do enjoy the cave-like atmosphere.