I write this letter to you my dears, knowing that even though I screwed up, you turned delicious. Even when I made the decision to make you with one pound ground deer and one pound ground beef, instead of two punds ground pork. Or when I decided to shred the cauliflower and the carrots in the food processor instead of by hand.
I remember being in the farmer’s market, just browsing the stands when I suddenly saw you standing there, all mixed together green and yellow and purple and I knew I had to bring you home to me and cook you. So I stuffed you with the mixture of meat and veggies and put you in the crockpot.
Or how I forgot to add the tomato paste to the mixture and rubbed it in top of everything just to make sure some of the taste was kept. But in the end, after ten hours of cooking slowly, you turned out to be alright.