Ah, Fat Tuesday, truly a phat Tuesday, ifyaknowwhatimean.While I've never been to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, the area of Southeast Texas that I grew up in (a mere 45 minutes from the Louisiana border) sure knows how to do it up right, and today I find I'm homesick for some fried catfish and a piece of King Cake.
Growing up, Fat Tuesday was always the day we gorged ourselves on the candy/cookies/icecream we would soon be giving up for Lent, and although I haven't given anything up for Lent in a long, long time, I've been considering it this year. I'll let you know tomorrow what I decide.
For now, I'm going back to dreaming of purple and gold frosting and ooey gooey raspberry filling...
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