As I said in my previous post, I was given both a Kobo and a Kindle for Christmas.
And yet, I can't seem to break my addiction to print.
I've been wrastling with the idea of getting a Kindle subscription to my local paper, the Ottawa Citizen but decided against it. I love my morning newspaper, love the smell of it, love the flyers, love the ads.
And the pictures are not the same on a Kindle. Looks like the Ottawa Journal and it's been dead thirty years.
Yesterday, in spite of having two e-readers, I bought two books by local folk: The Wealthy Barber II by David Chilton and The Looneyspoons Collection by the Podleski sisters. The first book was a late Christmas present, or early birthday gift, for my son Stef. The second, a cookbook, was for me.
I love buying Canadian books because the printing is much better than those made by our American counterparts.
No, that's not right.
The binding is better.
Our books reflect the Canadian constitution. They never fall apart, even under pressure.
Also, Canadian books have that nice flap that allows you to keep your place without dog-earing a favorite book. It's just so bloody civilized.
I would never, ever, buy a cookbook on Kindle because I like the glossiness of cookbooks, and I want to see what my food should look like. This is silly, of course. Everybody knows that food stylists spray that lovely roastabeef with more chemicals than a fake Elvis' hairstyle.
But yum, the food looks good.
I found myself looking at the book aisle at Costco wistfully. I am a book addict. I had so many books once that I had to have them carted off in a U Haul for donation.
The Podleski book is so beautiful, I'm afraid to cook with it.
So maybe I'll just Google the recipes.
Am I allowed to do that?
Maybe Janet and Greta have an app for that.
I'm hoping Stef will keep the Chilton book in his bookshelf after he becomes a millionaire.
Better yet, I'll keep it in my house, the one Stef buys for me after he reads Chilton's book.
A girl can dream.
Tonight, I'll be making One Flew over the Couscous Nest, a concoction of chicken, sweet potato over, well, you know.
Or maybe, just maybe it will be the Thigh Master, which features chicken and mushrooms. I can't decide.
I find the titles a bit corny. Maybe Janet should get herself to a punery!
But I digress.
Back to my main topic.
I don't think I can break my addiction to books.
Maybe I need a virtual intervention.
Maybe I'd lose weight, too, if I only cooked virtual food.
Must go. I have to turn down the stove.
I'm making some soup for the kids. The Contilentil Divide.