So I'm a little afraid of my kitchen.
"Rina, you write a food blog, what the fuck?"
I know, I know! I should have full kitchen confidence, wielding knives with Benihana flamboyance and blowtorching shit all over the place.
But I'm a little afraid of my kitchen.
And the reason I'm a little afraid of my kitchen is because my oven is old, small and makes a clicking noise every once in a while. It's not not the title character from Alien.
Read MoreSo, Passover is next week. Insane, right? I don't know where January or February went, but now Passover is in a week - maybe 2018 is trying to do us a favor by ending as quickly as possible.
I'm not going to my family for Passover this year, which means I'll be staying home in the city, staring longingly at bagels until I come to my senses.* In helping a friend menu plan her seder, I've been thinking about the foods and traditions my family has for our own. We always have props for the ten plagues on the table - plastic animals and bugs, those plastic monster finger puppet things and, for some reason, tiny plastic cowboys with guns for the death of the first born plague, maybe?
Read MoreIt isn't technically winter yet, but I'm already starting to feel the wintery blues. What a quaint way of putting it, as if I'm a little sad that it's cold and dark but with the right blanket and mug of hot cocoa everything will be fine.
What I really mean is, now that I see the sun without a window in front of me for maybe two minutes a day, my mood has gone south. Way south, with the birds. Maybe my mood is in Florida, with the geese and octogenarians. I hope it has a good time down there, and that it will come back soon.
Read MoreI'd like to dedicate this post to cheese.
Both the food and the sentiment. In case you haven't noticed, both Rina and I are very much of the share-your-feelings camp. I for one, love to tell my friends how much I love spending time with them. If anything, I'm an overly exuberant bubble of pure joy. But my sentiments are always genuine, and I can't express how much a good friend means to someone in their twenties, still fumbling their way through adulthood.
Read More