The kitchen, a mystery

Posted: October 3, 2013 in Uncategorized

My junior spring in college, I packed my bags and headed to Paris. I had left home for boarding school when I was 15, so I didn’t expect the homesickness that befell me when I got there. Oh, there was the usual conundrum of getting acculturated, developing a personality  and sense of humor that fit my 12-year-old French vocabulary in Paris, and getting around, sure. But I had prepared myself for that. What no one had told me about the study abroad experience was how physical hunger can trigger an emotional one.

“Not in Paris!” you might be thinking. Yes, in Paris. A student can only afford to go out for mussels and French onion soup with a side of perfectly made vegetarian couscous so many times, so getting to eat well depended on cooking my own dinner, something I had never done before. If it weren’t for one of my best friends in college who was better at cooking than I and enjoyed hosting dinner, I may have spent my four months in Paris sustaining myself on lentil soup in a can and scrambled eggs doused in soy sauce, as I had the first three weeks I was there.

So began my sad love/hate relationship with the kitchen.

Fast forward ten years, I moved from New York City (another safe haven for those who can’t cook and prefer to easily buy take out on the cheap) to Ann Arbor, Michigan, with my fiance, who’s a little bit braver in the kitchen than I. This blog is my re-introduction to the kitchen. I will try out recipes I find online, play with them based on reviews and my own instinct (as I develop one, that is), and post my findings, with my honest recommendations.

These creations will not be all fantastic, but they will all be made with love, which my sister says makes any dish at least a few notches yummier.


  1. Rizal says:

    This is an incredible project! Good luck!

  2. Ate Tina says:

    I can’t wait to read more, Lala. So far, both dishes, so sexy.

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