Okay, not really. I hate the fact that I ever even flip past the Food Network, and I despise that I always stop at Barefoot Contessa. She drives me crazy! All the cream, all the sauces, her creepy calmness, her hot-rollered bangs, her suspicious husband/partner who's always sitting around drinking espresso in the garden, waiting for his bitch to bring him some food and a drink with banana liqueor in it.
Oh Ina! You intrigue me! You're more fascinating than Paula Deen, whom I once upon a time did a mean impression of (involving a Ritz crackers joke), one that I've never been able to recreate.
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