I’m in shock. I thought I had beaten you back with a stick and a minor click of the Amazon button. I have turned away from all your temptations for years now, blindly cooking away not knowing the exquisite nature of your French Ovens. I finally caved in and and dipped a finger in the pool of your glorious offerings and purchased a delightful French Oven in the color of Kiwi…the exact color of my kitchen walls. I have thoroughly enjoyed my first Le Crusty. You have given me several minutes of incredible culinary pleasure. I have placed you upon the shelf of the most high. The bear in my soul was quiet at last. You are literally on a pedestal in my kitchen. The Hallowed Ground. The Corner Shelves. You have all you could ever have wanted! You are esteemed! You are validated! You ARE the essential cornerstone of cooking vessels.
But then you go and do what you did.
A mere two weeks after my first taste of your wonderfulness.
THIS is what you did…
Purple. You introduced Purple. You brought Purple into my oasis of imagination. You left me weak-kneed and on the floor. How did you know that my kitchen colors are green and purple? Did you have any idea that my Fiesta Plum dinnerware is the exact same color as your Cassis cookware? How could you even fathom the delightful hints of purple in my kitchen…my castle…my everlovin’ den of creativity??? Did you have a clue??? Who told you??!! ‘Fess up, man!!! WHO SOLD ME OUT????
Because you have chosen this route, I can no longer pretend.
I want you. I need you. I want the purple. Hand it over nicely and I promise to leave you alone and stop calling you low down rotten spawn. I promise to never disgrace the blissful enamel cast iron with undesirables such as frozen dinners, take out chinese, or fake lasagna.
I have my green. I have my red to “accent”. But I must have the purple to make my kitchen complete.