Fall is here, change is rough, life is busy. It has been COLD. I have been craving comfort food. (more on that later, but for now) I decided to make stew. I haven’t had a yummy, warm, hug in a bowl stew in years – so I tried good ol Pioneer Woman’s Sunday Night Stew on a bed of not-waist-friendly mashed potatoes. I tweaked it a bit…It was amazing! It was just what I was looking for…it was like chocolate, shoe shopping, and an afternoon nap. I was so pleased. My family was not. Small disclaimer: for twelve years now, one food habit that my husband has not changed is his dislike of soup, stew, or any form of Rachael Ray stoup. No chicken and dumplings. No pot roast. No taco soup. No. So….he didn’t surprise me. I invited my parents who always turned to soup, stew, pot roast, and goulash while I was growing up. They turned me down. So the four of us dug in. We regularly eat soup like substances for dinner on shift nights, but then the “Ewws” began. Really? All three children! Even the baby fussed all through her bowl. They are normally veggie eaters. Raw veggie eaters. Roasted veggie eaters. Soft veggie eaters; no so much. They are delusional. IGNORE my family on this one and try it. My point: stew sounded like a wonderful idea to me, it took me over a week to get it prepared and served, it tasted great to me. It was not a hit. I ended the evening with thoughts of “I made stew. I can’t give it away, I will be eating it by myself for months, but I made it.”