But it's okay because I just made kimchi with quinoa again.
Only this time I melted daiyi cheese in it, which made it nice and sticky. Honestly, I can do with or without though.
BUT I added SIRACHA SAUCE, which is basically like, allthatisgoodintheworld mixed together in a plastic bottle. I have a theory that absolutely anything tastes good in siracha sauce, even poo! Even satan's ovaries!
It's because I was preoccupied cooking for me and two (ridiculously tall) boys. Karl and Eric, two very long-time family friends, came over the other day to have lunch with me. Karl and I see each other around campus pretty often. Eric is an incoming freshman, and I have to say, seeing him on campus is WEIRD.
I mean, I've known this kid since I was 7. I would post some sort of photographic evidence but we've known each other before I even had my own camera and laptop.
But to give you a mental image, on one of our family vacations we spent the ENTIRE week listening to my Nsync CD in my dad's mustang. It's how I know all the lyrics to every song to this day.
Anyway, I like to think of this as my first baby Azuhn Pahtee. Which is fitting since Asian dinner parties was essentially the only medium through which the three of us hung out in the first place. Way back when.
I was anxious to make sure everyone was well (and constantly) fed, because my issue in cooking has always been predicting how much food is enough to feed X amount of people. It also disturbingly reminds me a little too much like my mother, and all other generations of Asian mom. Sigh. Woe zee hypocrite is me, I hope I don't make my future daughter fat.