Sweeeeet.

This weekend, I went kitchen-wild.

S loves peanut butter. Loves it. Possibly more than he loves me. And I had a new cookbook that had a recipe for a peanut butter pie. I thought, “Hey! He likes peanut butter! He likes pie! I bet he would loooooove peanut butter pie!” So, I began putting it together. While the crust was baking, I thought I’d use the time to make a batch of truffles. I whipped up the ganache and put it in the fridge to set up. I still had, like, 3 minutes until the crust was done and the oven was hot and I happened to have a few bananas that were overripe, so I threw together some banana bread. Our house smelled freakin’ fantastic. And we have way too many delicious things to eat now.

Needless to say, my husband thinks I rule.

The whole no-dieting thing is still in effect, but it’s a little scary. I’m not writing down anything, but my little brain knows when I’m eating “too much.” And it is truthfully very unnerving. I don’t want to regain weight. But I don’t want to drive myself crazy either. I don’t know how to balance the two.

Probably one way would be laying off the rampant dessert making.