Baklava is back on the shelves at Costco.
I ate a piece last night and decided it was the closest thing to being with Jon that I’ve ever experienced.
TMI? Probably, but folks, if you haven’t tried this stuff, I am telling you — in the nicest way possible — that you are MISSING OUT.
Oh. My. God.
As I was standing there savoring each morsel, jealousy guarding my piece against any and all intruders (read “husbands,” “dogs” and “children”) I decided that if I dropped dead right there in my kitchen that I would be dying at the peak of happiness.
What a way to go out.
I am just grateful for one more season to be able to taste this wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles.
If this particular baklava had been on the Tree of Knowledge instead of those dumb apples, I would have consumed the entire tree before God caught me.
And I wouldn’t have shared with Adam.
Or Jon.
Or anyone.
It’s really that good.
Author’s note: This post was no way endorsed or compensated for by Costco, their affiliates or the makers of their divine baklava, to which Angela finds herself hopelessly, inextricably and gleefully addicted. Thank God her cholesterol check came out fine. Let the holiday revelry begin!
