This made me just irrationally happy. I mean, when you get as far as "rice," my brain immediately wants to go "paprika tomatoes broth!" and start making Spanish rice. And my Spanish rice (edited to add: acquired from timprov) is so good that apparently my mom has spent not-insignificant amounts of time making my grandma jealous that Mom is in closer proximity to the potential for having my Spanish rice. It really is just that good. But then basket of, oh, that's generally promising. mkille, onehipmama, remember the basket of Malaysian food I got, the noodle thing? Like that. But with cheese.
I think I'm extremely lucky that I'm the kind of person who can be made irrationally happy by baskets of cheese. Because lots of people are stuck with the kind of brain chemistry that gets them miserable for very little reason, but give me a swingy little skirt and a good book to read and a basket of cheese, and I am more or less set.
Also it turns out that seven years of marriage is long enough to not get carded when buying wine any more. Maybe. We'll see if it's consistent from here.