there is no place like home!

a woman's best friend

Julie and Julia - a book I was reading

So there is this Julie/Julia book that I was reading. Well I am done reading it, and by done reading it I do not mean that I have finished it but that I have finished reading it. I have decided not to read it any longer than I have, that I have invested enough time and energy flipping through it pages and that it was not worth more of my time, or energy. So I put it down and mailed it on to my mother-in-law who wants to check it out as well. Despite that, however, I would certainly not place it on my "favorite" list, nor would I recommend it to others for reading - not unless you had absolutely nothing better to do with your life and had a few bucks you wanted to get rid of, or if you could get it for free from the public library (an option I had not looked into).

Well when I first got the book I was so hyped up about it, it was like the best book I had picked up all year (which is not entirely true since I had read this other wonderful book earlier this year called Delicious, which I do recommend and whose sequel my mother-in-law bought for me when she was here in DC visiting with Jeff and my mother and I). So the first chapters of the book were interesting and were an easy read, so much so that I talked about the book to everyone I know. I thought that this book was going to be my inspiration and that if the author could do it so could I. I almost idealized her, and even went to her book signing (granted my mother and I left before we got a chance to have her sign my book, but hey at least I spent some time listening to her read from the book and actually made a point of checking her out). So this was my motivational book for a while until I came to. I realised that while what she was doing - the Project - was a really neat idea, the way she wrote about it and hence the way she wrote her book, was (for lack of a better term at this point, do not forget English is my second language) nasty.

back in the kitchen

Whoever said that a woman's place is in the kitchen knew what he was talking about! I am proud to think that the kitchen is my kingdom - or queendom- and I am happy to call it my own.

In the past year I have hovered from one kitchen related activity to the next. From working in a restaurant and playing with someone else's food, to cooking in my mother-in-law's kitchen and freezing meals for her, to volunteering and now working at Sur La Table, I have been involved with perishables and everything that relates to them in one way or the other. I would say I have come quite a way in the road leading to mastering cooking.

In the kitchen I am happiest, and I am only happier when the audience I am serving compliments me on the final product. Some products have failed, some have risen to center stage on the table and others are simply no-repeaters. But the experience of bringing them about is cherished whatever the result. I am working on expanding my audience. That is why I marvel at living where family abounds, after all cooking needs to be enjoyed, and I need to be complimented!

three rings in C-Ville

three left hands, three well manicured fingers, three watches (all reading the same time - one hidden under the long sleeve), three wedding rings (each in a different style), and three married women (each with her own story, sad, happy, or otherwise) came together one September Sunday.
Where did they come from, where are they going, what brought them together, what will keep them apart? Different histories, different experiences, different hopes and dreams. From either corners of the world, from beyond the oceans and across the seas, cultures as different as the countries that house them. Different styles, different genes, different languages. Yet here they are, united in a closed circle, surrounded by one another. Why? How? What for?

Susan, Rana and Ranya

Love and Family

Jeff

two mothers, and...

alone again...

It was the first mother on Monday and the second one yesterday. The return of the mothers has become the departure of the mothers.