Cookie Butter

I have a blogger crush on Katie Levans from Sweet Tater Blog. I'm obsessed. I read her blog every day. I comment all of the time. I follow her cats on Facebook. It's intense.

Katie writes about "food, fitness, etc." and, most importantly, cats. And though our blogs are very different, I feel like we have a lot in common. Like, I think if we lived in the same city, we'd be friends. Maybe our cats would even hang out. Am I taking this too far? Whatever.

If you read food blogs as much as I do, you may have heard of something called "cookie butter." Let me say that again: Cookie. Butter. Generally, when I hear the word "butter," I think "must have immediately, if not sooner." And when you put "cookie" in front of that, I start sweating.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find cookie butter in any of my local stores. This made me sad. And one day, when Katie mentioned cookie butter in her blog, I commented about how sad I was.

A couple weeks later, I received a package in the mail containing a jar of the infamous cookie butter from Miss Sweet Tater herself. I immediately opened it and started eating it straight from the jar.  If there is one thing that defines my relationship with peanut butter, it's that I often eat it with my fingers. And sometimes I do this at work. And sometimes my coworkers see me. At least this time, I was dignified enough to eat the cookie butter with a spoon.

Cookie. Butter.

So, cookie butter, or "speculoos" as it's called, basically tastes like ginger bread cookie spread. I think it's phenomenal. And, obviously, I don't feel any need to put it on anything; it's fantastic all on its own. However, after a few handfuls, I decided to dip pretzels in it, which was... well let's just say that my verbal reaction was, "oh fuck, that's nice."

But while cookie butter is indeed magical, it will never ever take the place of peanut butter in my life. I need you all to know that. I also would like you to know that last weekend I ate a burger with peanut butter on it and it was a revelation.

That is all.

Thank you, Katie.

My Blogger Promise

As you have probably learned from reading this blog, I may or may not ever have a boyfriend. But, I promise with all of my heart that if I ever do have one, I will never, ever refer to him as "The Boyfriend" or "The Boy" (see also: "The Husband" and "Hubby"). 


This is an obnoxious thing bloggers and people on Facebook do. Not only is it annoying, but it's also grammatically inappropriate.  Boyfriend is not a proper noun. Ever. It's just a regular old noun. And, under (almost) no circumstance does it require a demonstrative adjective. Your boyfriend is not the only boyfriend of the world; he is your boyfriend. Just yours*. Congratulations. 


He also has a name, so use it. We'll be able to figure out using context clues that Bob, who lives with you and eats the food you make, is your boyfriend. So, don't worry -- everyone will still know that you have one! 


Or, if you're too afraid to say his name on the internet, then don't fucking talk about him because chances are none of your readers give a shit anyway. I came to your blog to get a pie recipe not to hear about your relationship.

Deep breath.

As you can see, using "The Boyfriend" is one of my pet peeves. Right up there with people you're not related to saying things like, "Mom says hi." No. Your mom says hi. We're not siblings. That would be fucking disgusting considering what we just did.





*Unless of course he's cheating on you, in which case, sucks to be you.