growing up, i learned from my mom that cooking for loved ones was a big deal; it should be cherished and it should be fun. it’s also one of the best ways to show love. when i was little i used to climb up on the counters and grab my mom’s spice rack and make my own little concoctions, mostly edible ones – minus the glitter and sparkles. then i would make my brother eat it. and thus began my love affair with cooking.
fast forward later to small apartments in the big city and long days chained to a desk while spending too much energy on all the wrong men. i quickly found that once i’d fire up that stove, grab some spices & a heavy pour of sauvignon blanc – my mind would clear, if only for a little while. and sometimes that’s all you need.
cooking became my therapy.
Here’s the short story:
i’m a 20-something single girl living in Chicago. I’ve been cooking since before I can remember but food and I haven’t always gotten along so well. We had to come to an understanding. fresh, flavorful, foodgasm, food is the result of that love-hate relationship.
I’ve had a lot of friends ask for my recipes. and in particular, i’ve had a lot of friends ask how i manage to cook so much, for one. or two. so i try to tailor my recipes to groups of 4 or under.
enough talking, there’s a foodgasm out there waiting for us.
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