I love food. When I am not eating it, I am thinking about it or talking about it. My friend and colleague Ruth Ann and I engaged in a brief conversation the other day, sparked by a press release about a company that is now marketing instant mashed potatoes with flecks of red potato skins in them to make it appear that mom slaved over a stove for you.

Eating is a specialized thing. I was sharing with Ruth Ann about my cousin who used to not eat anything if one vegetable or food on the plate touched an adjoining one. Don't ask me why. She offered that in her family some don't want any condiments or lettuce and tomato on their hamburgers and some eat all of one thing before tackling another.

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