Cook Mob

Philosophically, I am more book store than cook store. This should come as no surprise.

However, my pal Marilyn is the kind of gal who keeps a keen and creative eye out for cook/crafty/creative stuff for her many endeavors (PEO chapter, family gift inspiration, her lovely home, Pinterest, our daughter's wedding shower). And she is why I was at the Wilton Tent Sale last week, having my ankles wonked by frantic shoppers with grocery carts exploding with kitchen-related stuff.

Ever been to a tent sale? Wear ankle boots. Comfortable ones.

This was the line. Think Disney World. Think endless wrap. Ask why.

(And again, my apologies for the crummy pictures. The iPhone is a poor substitute for a digital camera.)

After schoonering through several miles of spatulas, cake totes, stickers, baking pans, bundts, teapots, fondants, sprinkles and cookie sheets, we waited 4 minutes shy of an hour to pay for our treasures.

And what, you might ask, does one do in line for an hour? Make friends, of course, with Karen of Hinsdale. Marilyn and I became bffs with Karen, a woman who knows how to make wedding cakes (for fun) and buys squeeze bottles so she can applique pesto onto a plate. (You mean you don't do that?)

We were in line so long, she had buyer's remorse on her metal cupcake dessert tower, and this lovely Wilton assistant ran the 17 miles back toward the tent and emerged triumphant with the ceramic version.

That's Karen on the left. She is a peach.

Her 96-year-old Mom waited by the tent with Karen's husband.

So, we got the scoop on her cooking and baking life and have become better human beings.

This is Karen and her husband as we were 40 minutes out from the cashier. At least the sky had begun to clear.

Of course, the burning question (little kitchen humor there) is what does a non-cooking/baking person like Naperville Now buy at a cook's tent sale? Bubble wands for the August wedding. A few pounds of pastel almonds and silver scoops for the candy bar. An ice cream scoop for our son-in-law (his was dishwashered to rust by daughter No. 1, though there is some controversy about this). And some white tulle. Just in case.

While I hope to become many things in this life, a good cook is just not on the list. There are too many books to be read and besides, there are people like Karen and Marilyn and the 14,000 other people in line last Friday covering for me. And, occasionally, inviting me to dinner. Thank you.