Fellow society of food fanatics

I have recently discovered panacea; the holy grail of food madness; the confirmation that I am not as crazy as I thought (or rather, shall I say, that I am certainly not special or unique in my obsession). My religion is food and the temple where I worship is called Chowhound! I never knew so many foodies existed under one same 'virtual' roof and that they not only share my passion for food but also the feelings of inadequacy when faced with people that do not give a damn about what they put in their bodies and mouths. There are as many discussion threads about food as are possibly imaginable (and those I never thought about are there too) and debates can get quite heated, disagreements abound but always with the common knowledge and understanding of food as the driving force in life. Needless to say, I have lately been spending more time than it would be advisable on these forums and I can honestly say that I have found the only form of religion I feel I can believe in!

One of the discussion threads on the site was asking what people thought was the least interesting local cuisine in the world. And no; as tempted as I might have been to chip in with my views on British food, I actually felt quite sorry about the fact that many of those who took part readily chose it as the worst. I think I abstained out of respect for my host country, however uninspired and basic I feel its fare to be.

On a different (but not so different) note, the weekend went really well. The baby was the nicest, best-behaved, most adorable thing ever (and I found myself helplessly cooing over him like an idiot!), we had a very good time with our friends and, most important of all, my food went down a treat! It'd been a while since I'd last heard so many 'yums' and 'ohhhs' and 'ahhhs' during and after dinner and, as you know, practically nothing fills me with more joy than making people happy by serving them good food (I think my Jewish roots have a lot to answer for here, although they must have skipped a few generations because neither my grandma nor my mum were ever particularly interested in cooking). The menu was as follows:

Lunch: Turkey fajitas with melted manchego cheese (the turkey had been marinaded in spices and other juices for 24 hours) served with homemade guacamole, homemade refried beans, salad and corn on the cob.

Dinner: Mushroom and leek risotto with roasted garlic and cherry tomatoes, served with grated fresh mozzarella and fresh basil and bruschettas in Irish brown bread and white cuntry-style bread with goats cheese and garlic.

Dessert: Homemade wholewheat date and walnut cake with warm dulce de leche on top.

The shopping, prepping and cooking was quite laborious but the results were more than worth the effort! And I'm off to devise the menu for this next weekend as Mike's best friend is staying with us for four days and he is a veggie which gives me a great chance to indulge in my love of vegetarian creations without complaints from my better half...