Slow Karma
Today I slow-cooked top roast with a tremendous amount of onions. As a result, I have spent the day incredibly self-conscious about the fact that I smell like a tremendous amount of slow-cooked onions.
About ten years ago, while living in New York, I took a cab to a friend’s apartment. The driver smelled terrible. Oniony.
“It was gross,” I told my friend upon arrival. “You can’t work in the service industry and have terrible hygiene.”
To that cab driver: I’m sorry. Maybe you weren’t dirty. Maybe you, too, had just rediscovered your love of the crock pot.
