Well, despite my impressive lack of artistic talent, I do make some pretty tasty things on a fairly regular basis. Plus, I'm literate. That helps.
And the title? I've lived in eight different places in the past six years, including a mess of apartments, a couple different countries of the Spanish-speaking variety, and my wonderful parents' house in between most of the bigger transitions. Not only have I cooked in a lot of places, I've picked up tricks and influences from a lot of people and places. Secret family recipes. Spices I'd never tasted (merken, anyone?). Wonderful things I'd never heard of, but surely now couldn't live without (mmmmmm manjar).
Scrambling from place to place, you learn what you can live without: a blender, hot water from the tap, a drip coffeemaker, that bag of some weird grain that I found at Whole Foods and never used. You learn what's worth packing (and unpacking, probably repacking) for the umpteenth time: my favorite knife, a couple great pans, my tiny milk frother (which is still hiding somewhere since the latest move...), stemless wine glasses.
|Have you seen me?|
And the current kitchen? Here in steamy N'awlins, where the booze runs freely and the seafood is officially safe to eat already. I have a dishwasher, and I will not lack inspiration in this crazy, delicious town. I'm officially out of excuses to not cook.
|Oh, wait, does grad school count as an excuse?|
I won't bore you with the of the details of my life (although the boyfriend loves it when I tell him every, single thing I've eaten in a given day); I'll try to stick to the details of my kitchen. This isn't xanga, after all. Check in later this week (after I've found my damn camera charger) to see what I've cooked up!
Does anyone even remember xanga?