All quiet on the western NY front.

Not much to report. I went back to work today. Endless popping of pills is going fine. It's actually 8 capsules twice a day. It beats chemo and it, um... beats dying. Really, I'd swallow a Yaris daily if you told me it would work.

My brother's culinary exploits have generated quite a few comments. Yes, growing up Ted was almost constantly eating. Usually some place he wasn't supposed to be. When taken by surprise Ted would engage in caching behavior very similar to grey squirrels and stuff his prize into the nearest orifice or dark space. Unlike a squirrel he had no intention of going back to retrieve the morsel. At least I don't think so judging by the number of mummified bagels and dried up cups of yogurt my mother found under the couch.

Of course he was not the only one to engage in clandestine eating. Let's face it we all do it. After a roast chicken my Dad would take all the meat off the bones and put it in a food saver (it was not pretty to watch --let's just say Happy Hal had all the surgical precision of a paper shredder). No chicken pot pie or chicken a la king made from that mess of meat tasted nearly as good as fishing out a nice piece of thigh while standing at the fridge and stuffing it in my mouth. Yes, you've done it. Admit it.

Here are a few other delicacies that come to mind beyond the obvious smear of icing off a cake:

-No casserole tastes as good after baking as it does waiting to go into the oven. My favorite is Mac and Cheese but I'll eat raw tuna noodle casserole in a pinch. No making faces. It's all cooked. It's just going in the oven to brown! Get over yourself.

-Licking the lid from any can of creamed soup tastes better than the actual soup.

-Handfuls of cereal taste better than bowlfuls.

-Ice cream tastes better in the carton. I got caught once and told my mother I was just "saying hello."

-The best part of a jar of peanut butter is that first swipe with your finger through the unbroken pristine surface.

You have a better one? Post it in the comments.

These tales all pale in comparison to the undisputed master of clandestine eating: Uncle Bill. That is a story so legendary, so epic, it deserves it's own entry. I will need some time to prepare...help me Obi Bill. You're my only hope!

In the meantime, I'll finish by telling you I went to the grocery store today and walked by the Christmas baking supplies. The only candied fruit sold are the neon cherries or a tub labeled "fruitcake mix." I couldn't make myself buy it. I just couldn't distinguish what the bright green squares were. I will check out the other supermarket chain. If they have the pure stuff I will make some mini-fruitcakes and then I will hold a lottery. You'll need to send me your address if you want to be entered. I will randomly pick out three winners to receive a little loaf of heavenly, brandy-sodden goodness.

Dr. Bif