hi, my name is zoë, and my job ate my life.
it’s not that i can say that i never cook anymore… but it’s rare, and definitely not the way i used to. gone are the elaborate meals with leisurely hours in the kitchen on weekends, making stock from scratch or slow roasting anything and everything.
this is my fridge… and 3 people live here. essentially, you have two tubs of miso, a bunch of yogurt, some korean chili paste, some eggs and mushrooms. i think my roommate has some wilted spinach on the top shelf.
in fact, i made two quiches last week — one to bring to work, the other for dan and i to have for dinner. and let me tell you, it was not like riding a bike. unless, say, riding a bike means falling a lot and scraping up your knees and chin. first, i used a tart pan too big, so the dough was too thin. and it had holes, so the quiche filling leaked out, filling my kitchen with smoke. round two include me making extra dough, but that being too soft because i was rushing, and that slipped down during the par-bake, and blah blah blah, that overflowed too and filled my kitchen with smoke. again. luckily they tasted really good, but sheesh. how many times have i made quiche?