Friends who have food

When a friend of mine was going through cancer treatment, he told me, "When you have cancer, you really learn who your friends are ... who have pot." Apparently his diagnosis prompted various acquaintances to suddenly offer him herbal remedies.

In my case, my friends know my body is a temple (this is always funnier when said while holding a martini) so instead of offering drugs, they tend to my needs with food.

Here are a few of the lovely things that have arrived in the past couple of months:

From Eric and Nicki, an insane amount of homemade ice cream and frozen yogurt. Best flavors are the roasted banana, the anise, and the coffee. But frankly they're all delicious, as is evident by the fact that I ate most of them before I remembered to take a photo.



From Mary D., a deeply decadent Nutella-chocolate torte, topped with — get this — white-chocolate-dipped hazelnuts. Oh yeah.



(Also Italian custard, rice pudding, and a vanilla pound cake of extreme awesomeness):



From Amy, some fabulous truffles with a nice crisp chocolate coating and a buttery interior:



From Mike, a thick Middle Eastern yogurt drizzled with olive oil and a fresh, bright baba ganoush:



From Robbin, a selection of goodies from the Chefs Cooking for Hope fundraiser, including addictive candied lemon slices:



and this:



Maple. Bacon. Cotton. Candy. Smoky and sweet as it melts on the tongue.

From my cousin Deborah, a Harry & David hamper — Moose Munch FTW!



From my dear mother-in-law, Puerto Rican comfort foods and some colorful candy:



And then there were all the lovely non-food gifts I've had: books and hats and flowers and toys and jewelry, not to mention the much-needed emotional support in the shape of emails, cards and phone calls, or the visits from friends that lift my spirits and make me feel normal.

I said it before about The Boy and I'll say it again about my amazing friends and family: I am a very, very lucky girl.