A couple weekends ago, Farmboy had a sale on lobster so my mom decided to treat us to a nice surf n' turf meal. I invited Matt to the dinner and he accepted even though it would be his first lobster experience; a lobster virgin, if you will. This impressed me because trying new food can be intimidating to some, especially when you run the risk of ( Read more... )

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Every time I cook with curry, I can smell it on my fingers for days regardless of the number of times I furiously wash my hands. I actually love the smell of curry, but whenever I catch the smell, my stomach grumbles with the thought of food, any food, infused with the delicious powder. Matt and I made one of my favorite chicken dishes yesterday ( Read more... )

just asked me to slice a roast for her. I don't even know how to cook a roast; wait, I don't even like roasts, why would I know how to slice one? I have roast angst right now.

A little while ago, Elisa, Ayan, and I got together and created the following masterpiece:


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Why kosher salt isn't located in the kosher aisle at Loblaws.

With how hard it is to make dough. DOUGH! I'm attempting to make soft pretzels and my tiny little hands kneaded like they just couldn't knead anymore and the dough still isn't "smooth." Grrr. I'm hoping tiny little magic elves will transform it while it's sitting for an hour.

I just ate a piece of fried chicken, without cutting it into centimetre wide pieces. I'm back, baby! I'm going to go all Tasmanian devil on all my favorite restaurants around town.

I love eating green olives stuffed with red pimentos. I always suck out the pimento first and then eat the olive. When I was younger, I used to go to my grand-parent's house and always have a big bowl of these olives with a big glass of orange juice. When I finished the bowl of olives, I would drink the olive juice in the bowl. Thankfully, the last ( Read more... )

These past four days, I've been working at the Home & Garden show in one of the booths representing the place where I work. When I told my mom I was doing this, she immediately exclaimed, "Oh! You're a booth bunny!" Apparently, this is trade show slang for hot bitches in the booths. She also informed me that I inherited the booth bunny aptitude ( Read more... )