Food is Love
We went to NYC earlier in the week, and it made me feel very nostalgic. I saw glimpses of a ghost of my former self everywhere: getting first job in a museum; going on first dates with fiancé; losing my wallet, totally freaking out, having museum security guard give me a $20 bill to get home, and random woman mailing it to me from one of the busiest intersections in the world; writing 40 page papers for grad school; going out way too often, and staying out way too late; getting sexually harassed at my waitressing job; exhilarated, scared, and a little alone. I also remembered the first meal I ever cooked when I moved in with Scott. I think I only owned one cookbook at that time which Scott's mother had given me for Christmas the previous year. I made Chicken Tikka with all the condiments. It was the first time I used a food processor, and I remember being surprised how delicious it was to mix yogurt, ginger, garlic, and mint together. Then, I made a cake from the only cookbook ...