Still feeling stuffed
Every year, the japanese teacher at my son's school auctions off a dinner. Win it, and she'll come to your house and make a japanese dinner for 8. Or, more accurately, for 20. Our pals won the bidding war this year, and invited us to join them last night. We played cards in the kitchen for two hours while she cooked up a storm, telling us about ingredients. Then we all sat down and chowed.
That was one of the best meals I've had in a long time. And she enlisted the boys in making some of the rice dishes, and taught them to roll sushi. She is an excellent cook. I gorged myself. We all did.
Also, do not fall for it when the child of Asian parents tells you they are not a very good musician and are rusty from lack of practice. Sensei sat at the piano (having lowered our expectation with all these excuses) and proceeded to blow us away. I wish i could be that rusty at anything. She also claims to be lousy on her preferred instrument, the saxophone. I'll just bet.
Great night. I have a fridge packed with leftovers to boot.
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