Hello, my name is Shelby, and I have a balsamic vinegar problem.
I think I was in college when I first ate at a fancypants-type restaurant where they pour a little plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar for you to eat with your bread. I remember thinking it was cool that vinegar formed a perfect little circle, trapped there in the oil. Then I dabbed the edge of my bread in it and never looked back.
On a recent business trip to Europe, my husband picked up a little gift for me. The man clearly knows the way to my heart.
I know, the cheapo grocery store stuff is “imported from Italy.” But this is actually from Italy. And that makes it better, right?
No, actually, what makes it better is that it’s thicker and sweeter than the domestically available vinegar products that normally grace my baby lettuces. It’s almost like a balsamic reduction in a jar. I’m not exaggerating when I say I could eat this stuff with a spoon.
But then I wouldn’t have any left over for my pasta.
(Whole wheat penne with red peppers, chicken sausage, goat cheese, and OMG balsamic deliciousness.)
I kind of can’t believe I just wrote a whole post about balsamic vinegar. But hey, it’s Tuesday and there’s not much going on around here.
In the spirit of randomness, I’ll leave you with the ad that has been popping up constantly on my Words With Friends lately:
I’m not sure what I did to lead my phone to believe that I’m in to adolescent eskimo boys….