Is the thing I do that aids in killing off my frustration. This while good news for people in my house, is bad news for my hips, thighs and ass. Well I'm a pretty healthy eater, but still. I got sweet potato pudding, fresh from the oven and I'm making a beef stew/soup thing with dasheen, eddoes, among other things and of course the dumplings waiting to go in. I don't care what anyone says, it's bad manners to serve West Indian style soup without dumpling.
So I've got this stupid test to take next weekend and it's a whole load of info and I only learned about it like on thursday night, but I just got the chapters today. A test I am being FORCED (I cannot strees enough)to take.
My sister called me a while ago and the first thing I said to her was 'no I did not kill your mother'. I told her to feel free to send on the care package anyway, and I'll pretend that ten calls a month is all I got.LOL Well I can't get Cheetos here :(
If I'd thought about it when I was young, I probably would have gone to cheffy school. The high pressure of a professional kitchen would probably defeat me, but for a nice little hotel in the Caribbean it could work. But c'est la vie. So I cook not for money, not for fame, but to bribe people to come visit me, and kinda because I love it (hush Voldy, you stir fry cook,lol, I can so cook well). My best friend got me into this from her days of studying here. She'd ask me to come over for the weekend when I'd protest because of the cold and the distance she'd say ''I'll cook''.HA! Now it's the other way, people now call me to ask 'yuh cooking? what yuh cooking? I'm coming over, so you cooking right!'.
Sooooo who's coming over? Cause I'm cooking.