Is there some sort of cheap plastic switch nestled deep inside my brain that gets reset each time the season's change? I swear my friends, I become some automated eating robot that's completely incapable of making my own choices when it comes to food. Take Autumn. It wasn't some gradual ease into the season at my house but a very! drastic! change! of! the! seasons! I began snubbing the grill and light summer veggies almost immediately in favor of the tastes that currently rule my existence: caramelly, sticky, roasted, savory, smoky, braisey, deep and dark. And you know what? I couldn't be happier.
When I think about it, it may be my body's way of overcompensating for the fact that where I live we don't really have seasons at all. I mean, other than Santa Ana Winds Season, Awards Season, TV Sweeps Season, Summer's-Almost-Here-Get-To-The-Tanning-Bed-And-A-Little-Extra-Restylane-While-We're-At-It-Season. You see what I'm sayin', right?