On Sunday, it snowed. Again.
On Sunday, my plans got cancelled. Again.
On Sunday, I wanted to throw knives. Again.
But, instead of throwing knives, I decided to throw something a little less deadly: A grilled cheese party.
It was a good decision, requiring only a few good friends (who conveniently live within walking distance), plus all the bread, cheese, meat, and fixins I could scrounge up.
The pickeled and smoked jalapenos from last summer’s garden? Perfect. The leftover mozzarella from last week’s pizza disaster? You bet. The fig jam I picked up on an outing to Cleveland’s Westside Market two months ago and have been wondering how to use? Even better.
