I got a marriage proposal today. Cool, huh?
To be honest, she's already married (yes, she) and I told her that her husband is cuter than me so she should stick with him.
Now, in good Paul Harvey fashion I should probably tell you the rest of the story:
I and some other friends in college used to make Baklava on a regular basis. We did it for our friend who had a huge crush on a guy who loved Baklava. I've made it several times over the years since, but I hadn't made it in some time. Quite recently, I developed a craving for it again and was looking for a good reason to make it. Last week, the reason presented itself in the form of a particularly bad day at work. And what's the prescription for a bad day at work? Goodies, of course!
So, this weekend when I went grocery shopping, I picked up the supplies and let the phyllo defrost in the refrigerator until today. I was a bit nervous making it since I was out of practice. However, it turned out to be just like riding a bike. After the first couple of torn sheets, I was layering and brushing with butter like it hadn't been any time at all since the last time.
Once I unveiled it at work, 2/3 of the pan disappeared in short order. One of the supervisors told me it was the best she had ever had and told everyone in the break room she was going to have to ask me to marry her. She did that later, in a note.
I turned her down, but still appreciate the compliment.
Now, if I didn't work in a female-dominated profession, that marriage proposal might have been a bit more interesting . . .