When I was a child, my mother rarely cooked because there were only two of us in the house. Cooking is easy when it's for one person (a big pot eaten over a few days) or for a group (a big pot eaten in one meal). But now that I'm an adult she bemoans not having cooked for me, leaving me without any memories of home-cooked family meals. Au contraire, ma mare - I remember every meal you ever made!
Living on my own in Philadelphia for the past year, I have delighted in cooking my own meals. I finally have a kitchen that I enjoy cooking in, with lots of counter and cabinet space, a gas stove which is so superior to electric coil stove-tops and a food coop that sells organic and locally grown produce. Unfortunately this blog would have been better timed at the beginning of my stay in Philadelphia, but alas, I chose to wait until now to start it.
My next destination is New Orleans, where I will hopefully learn to correctly make jambalaya, how to cook beans without burning them, and how to eat all that delicious food without blowing up like a balloon.
I made jambalaya for a Mardi Gras potluck in the Crock Pot and added a bay leaf at the last minute. Although it was okay mixed with dirty rice, the jambalaya tasted like a bay leaf stuck under my tongue. New Orleans natives will probably cuss me out for nixing the sausage, but I just don't like sausage. I guess I'd better learn to.
Happy cooking!
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